IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


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Photographic 

Sdences 
Corporation 


73  WP'.T  MA'N  STREET 

WEBStb'sN.Y.  14580 

(716)  872-4503 


CIHM/ICMH 

Microfiche 

Series. 


CIHM/ICMH 
Collection  de 
microfiches. 


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Technical  and  Bibliographic  Notas/Notes  techniques  et  bibliographiques 


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D 
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illustrent  la  mdthode. 


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1 


Mount  Assiniboine. 


CAMPING  IN  THE 
CANADIAN  ROCKIES 


AN  ACCOUNT  OF  CAMP  LIFE  IN  THE  vVILDER  PARTS  OF 

THE   CANADIAN    ROCKY   MOUNTAINS,  TOGETHER 

WITH  A  DESCRIPTION  OF  THE  REGION  ABOUT 

BANFF,   LAKE   LOUISE,   AND  GLACIER, 

AND  A  SKETCH  OF  THE  EARLY 

EXPLORATIONS 


BY 


WALTEK  DWIGHT  WILCOX 


WITH  TVVMNTV  FIVE   FULL-PAGF   PHOTOGRAVURES,  AND  MANY  TEXT 
ILLUSTRATIONS  FROM  PHOTOGRAPHS   BY  THE  AUTHOR 


';     1'     ITT\  \M'^    ;-(  )\' 


NKW  YORK 

27  Whsr  Twi-M  v-i  Mimi  Sikkht 


I.OMiOX 

J4    likDKOKI)    StukKI,    SiKAM) 


aljc  iiniclictbochcv  |)rcss 
1896 


CorYKKWIl.    lS(|f) 
IIV 

(1.  1'.  1-L'lNAM'S  SONS 
Entcrid at  Stationers  Hall,  London 


Fc 


f 


Cbe  itntorietbocliec  pcces,  Dew  H^tft 


f 


PRKI    \CK. 


THH  Canadian  Rocky  Mountains  offer  cxceijtional 
attractions  to  tliosc  who  enjoy  natural  sceiier). 
sport,  and  camp  life.  l'"e\v  re_L,nons  of  tlu:  world 
coinbinino-  mountain,  lake,  ami  forest  scenery  possess  the 
additional  advantaj^^e  of  a  delijj^htful  summer  climate,  such 
as  obtains  in  the  Canadian  Rockies. 

The  extremely  wild  charact(!r  of  this  part  of  th(^  Rocky 
Mountains,  and  th(;  very  short  time  since  it  was  opened 
up  to  travellers,  are  probably,  in  great  part,  the  reasons 
for  the  lack  of  literature  and  the  absenct?  of  any  thor- 
oughly illustrated  publication  concerning  this  region. 

During  a  period  of  four  years,  the  author  has  made 
camping  excursions  into  many  of  the  wilder  parts  of  the 
mountains  and  effected  a  considerable  number  of  ascents. 
An  excellent  camera  has  been  an  almost  inseparable  com- 
panion in  every  excursion,  so  that  photographs  of  the 
typical  scenery  hav(;  been  obtained  from  every  possible 
point  of  view.  Moreover,  throughout  all  the  processes  of 
photographing,  no  expense  of  time  or  labor  has  been 
spared  in  order  to  obtain  true  and  artistic  representations 
of  nature.      Nor  have  these  results  been  obtained  without 


JV 


Preface. 


considcrabh;  sacrifice,  for  in  many  cases  the  proper  li^ln 
eifects  on  lakes  and  forests  required  hours  of  delay,  and 
freciuently.  on  lofty  mountain  summits,  high  winds  made 
it  necessary  m  anchor  the  camera  with  stones  ;  while  the 
cold  and  e.xposure  of  those  high  altitudtts  made  th(;  cir- 
cumstances unfavorable  for  successful  work. 

A  map  is  not  i.icluded  in  the  volume,  as,  owing  to  the 
wildness  of  the  country,  there  are  no  detailed  maps  cover- 
ing this  region  that  are  entirely  satisfactory.  The  best 
map,  and.  in  fact,  the  only  one  available,  is  published  in 
Dr.  Dawson's  Preliminary  Report  on  this  part  of  the 
Rocky  Mountains. 

The  author  makes  grateful  acknowledgment  of  the 
assistance  received  from  many  friends  in  the  preparation 
of  this  book.  Special  thanks  are  due  to  Prof.  J.  H.  Core, 
of  Columbian  University,  and  to  the  Hon.  Chas.  D.  Wal- 
cott.  Director  of  the  United  States  Geological  Survey,  for 
the  valuable  aid  and  information  given  by  them  ;  to  INI. 
Guillaume  La  Mothe  for  an  interesting  letter  concerning 
the  f^rst  exploration  of  the  Fraser  River;  and  to  Sir 
William  Van  Home  for  the  many  courtesies  extended. 

\V.  D.  W. 

Washington,  D.C,  July,  1896. 


cox  TKN  IS. 


CHAPTER   I. 

BiViff—Its  Location —  Tlic  I  'Mii^r,-—  Tourists — Hotels  -  Topoi^raphv 
of  t/if  Rr:::ion—Kiiihnc  and  Cascade  Mountains— The  Deril's  Lake—Sir 
Geor-e  Simpson's  yoiirney  to  this  Region— Pcechec  the  Indian  Guide— 
An  Indian  I.e,i;end— The  Missionary  .Rundle—Dr.  /lector— The  Climate 
of  Iianjt—,t  Summer  Snoic-  Storm-  -  The  Mountains  in  11  'inter  i  - 1 5 

CHAI'TIIR    II. 

lahe  I.oui,e— First  Impressions— An  Abode  of  Perpetual  Winter— 
The  Chalet— Visitors— Stirring  Talcs  of  Adventure— Primeval  Forests- 
Forest  Fires— Mosquitoes  and  Bull- Dog  I'lics— Mortal  Combats  between 
Wasps  and  Bull-dogs— The  Old  Chalet— Morning  on  the  Lake— Approach 
of  a  Storm— Sublimity  of  a  Mountain  Thunder-Storm— Cloud  Effects— 
The  Lake  in  October— A  Magnificent  Avalanche  from  Mount  Lefrov- 
A  Warning  of  Approaching  Winter ,6_,- 


1! 


CH.\PTER  III. 

Surroundings  of  the  Lake— Position  of  Mountains  and  Valleys- The 
Spruce  and  Balsam  Firs-The  Lyall's  Larch- Alpine  Flo7c>'ers—Tlie 
Trail  among  the  Cliffs- The  Beehive,  a  Monument  of  the  Past-Lake 
Agnes,  a  Lake  of  Solitude— Summit  of  the  Beehive -Lake  Louise  in  the 
Distant  Future  .  ^     . 


VI 


Contents. 


ciiAi'i  i;r  IV. 

0>X(i/n':if/,i^  ii  Party  for  tlic  Moimttiins — Our  Plans  Jor  //ir  Summer — 
Williiim  Twin  an  J  I'om  C7iinii/ii\  —  A'atun-,  Ifiihits,  and  Dress  of  llw 
StoniY  Indians — ////  /■'.xcnrsion  on  the  Glacier —  The  Surface  Delris  and 
its  Orii^in — .S'«<;7»'  Line — Ascent  of  the  Couloir — //  'Terrible  Accident - 
Ge.tin)^  Dim<n — An  K\hausit,i}^  Return  for  Aid — Hasty  Organization  of 
a  Rescue  Tartx — Cold  and  Miserable  Wait  on  the  Glacier—  I' nplcasant 
Surmises — "/  Think  You  Hi" — .-/  I'ortunate  Termination     .       47-64 

CIIAI'IKK    V. 


Castle  Crates — Early  .\forninf;  on  the  Mountain  Sidi — I'ieh'  fro/n  the 
Summit — Ascent  of  the  .li^uil/e — ,  ///  Avalanche  of  Rocks — ./  Gloriom 
Glissade — St.  J'iian — Its  Al/<ine  Flowers  and  Jiutter flies— Expedition  to 
an  Unexplored  Valley — A  Thirsty  !!  alk  throuj^h  the  Forest— Discovery 
of  a  Mountain  Torrent — .,•/  Lake  .//  the  Forest — //  Mountain  Amphi- 
theatre—The Saddle — Impressive  View  of  Mount  Temple — Summit  of 
Great  Mountain — An  Ascent  in  I  'ain — A  Sudden  Storm  in  the  //iyh  J/oun- 
tains — Phenomenal  Pall  0/  Temperature — Grand  Cloud  Effects,       65-S3 


I 


CHAPTER  VI. 

Paradise  Valley — The  Miire  G'aciir — ^tir  Castles — Climbini;  to  the 
Col — Dark  fee  Caverns — Mountain  Sickness- — Grandeur  of  the  Rock- 
Precipices  on  Mount  Lefroy — Summit  of  the  Col  at  /.ast — A  Glorious 
Vision  of  a  iVeii'  and  Beautiful  Valley — A  Temple  of  A'ature — Sudden 
Change  of  JVeather — Temptation  to  Explore  the  New  Valley- A  Precip- 
itate Dt  scent — Sudden  Transition  from  Arctic  to  Temperate  Conditions — 
Delightful  Surroundings — Weary  Pollo7C>ers— Overtaken  by  A'ight — .7 
bivouac  in  tlie  Forest — /'//(■  ///  the  Forest — Indian  Sarcasm,     84-100 


I 
t 


CHAPIER  VII. 


The    Wild  Character   of  Paradise    I'alley — Difficulties   with  Pack- 
Horses — A  Remarkable  Accident — Our  Camp  and  Surroundings — Animal 


ColltLlUS. 


Ml 


fi  ii-iuh — Midsumiiiii  hlowfrs — Disolatioti  I  '<i//>y — .  I.u,///  of  Hazel  /'<  </X- 
— .•///  Al[<ine  f.akc  in  ./  />'./.*///  of  /,<  /■iist  .Utiii;/<l /<>  S,ii/r  Mount  I'iiiiple 
—  Our  ( \tinp  f'V  (.'  Siihi//  fiike  .1 II  ilJ  ivul  Slotiny  .\  f^lil — .///  I  iiipti>,sahle 
Harrier—  A  Scene  of  I' Her  Desci'd.'i.ii-.l//  .Wtfiire  S/eeps — Pijfieutiies 
of  Aseeitt —  77ic  //ix/ies/  J\>int  yet  Reaeliiu!  in  t  './//«/</</ — /'iinii/ise  I  'alley  in 
Winter — l'\ire7i>eH  to  Lake  Louise    .         .         ,         .         .         ,101-118 


I 


r/ 


CIlAl'TMR    \'!II. 

'I'lie  Selkirks — (ieof^rapliieiil  /'o'^ilion  of  Hie  luiiii^e — (iooil  Cheer  of 
the  Glacier  Ifome — Cliarniin;^  Si/uation—Coiiiparisoii  le.'roeen  the  Selkirk^ 
and  /■iockies — /uirly  Mountain  Accents — Density  if  llie  forest— Ascent  of 
/uii;le  l\ak — A  Ma^uificenf  Panoramo  I  Descent  in  the  Darkness  — 
Account  if  a  Terril'le  /■Experience  on  /uix  e  /'eak—  7'riiils  tl/roui;//  llie 
/''orest — I'uture  J\>pularlty  of  tlie  Su kirks — 7 lie  J'orest  Primeval — 
••///  /'pitonie  of  Human  Lifi — .<.;■  of  J  rees — forests  Dependent  on 
Humidity         .         ,  .         ,         .         .         .         .         .      1  iy-136 

CHAl'lKR  IX. 
Mount  Assinihoinc  — Preparations  for  I'isitini^  it  — Camp  at  Ileely's 
Creek— Crossin;:;  the  Simpson  Pass — Shoot  a  Pack- Horse  —  A  /^elii:;htful 
Camp — A  Difficult  Smn^'  Pass — Burnt  Timber — Xature  Sounds—  Dis- 
corery  of  a  Beautiful  Lake — Lnspirim;  l'ie;i'  of  Mount  Assinilwine  — 
Our  Camp  at  the  Base  of  the  Mountain — Summer  Snort'-Storms — /nac- 
cessiiility  of  Mount  Assinilwine        .         .         .        ,         .        •     '37-iS7 

CHAPTKR   X. 

Evidence  of  Game — Discovery  of  a  Mountain  Goat — A  Lon^  Hunt — 
A  Critical  Moment— A  Terrible  Fall — .///  Unpleasant  Experience — 
Habitat  of  the  JLountain  Goat — A  Chan,\:e  of  Weather — A  Magnificent 
Panorama  — Set  out  to  fix  pi  ore  the  ALiUntain  — Intense  Heat  of  a  Forest 
Fire—Strui:^^lini;  icith  Burnt  Timber — A  ALountain  Bivouac- -J/ope  and 
Despair  — Success  at  Last — Short  Lia lions-  Topography  of  ALount  Assini- 
boinc — The  Vermilion  Kiver — ./  Wonderful  Canyon — B'ording  tlie  Boio 
River 158-1S2 


^  /*-;*' 


VI  u 


Contents. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

The  Waputfhk  Raii-r—Jld^^Iit  of  the  Mou»taim—Vast  S,w7i>  Fichh 
ami  Glaciers— Journey  n,"  tlie  Bow—noine  of  a  Prospector— Causes  ami 
Frequency  of  Forest  Fires— A  Visit  to  tlie  Loi.er  Bow  Lalce—Musl^eirs- 
A  Mountain  FloodeJ  will,  Ice—Deli)rl,tful  Scenes  at  tlie  [pper  Bow 
Lal-e  —  Beauty  of  tlie  Sliores  —  Lalce  Trout  —  Tiw  Great  Bow 
Glacier  ....  .., 

CHAPTER  XH. 

Sources  of  tlie  Bow-  Tlie  Little  Fork  Pass—Mat^nificence  of  the 
Scenery— Mount  Murchison—Camp  on  the  Divide— A  High  Mountain 
Ascent— Future  of  tlie  Bow  Lakes— Return  down  the  Bow— Search  for  a 
Pass— Remarkable  Agility  of  Pack-Horscs-Tlie  ''Bay"  and  the  'Pinto  "' 
—  Mountain  Solitudes— Mount  Hector— Difficult  Nature  of  Johnston 
Creek  — A  Blinding   Siio7c-Storni— Forty-.}nie   Creek— Mount  Fdith 

Pass 

205-219 

CHAPTER  Xni. 
HISTORICAL. 

Origin  and  Rise  of  the  Fur  Trade—  The  Coureurs  dcs  Bois  and  the 
Voyagcurs— Perils  of  the  Canoe  Voyages— The  LIudson  Bay  Company  and 
the  Northwest  Company— Intense  Rivalry— Downfall  of  the  Northwest 
Company— Sir  Alexander  Mackenzie -His  Character  and  Physical  En- 
do7uments— Cook's  Explorations  — Mackenzie  Starts  to  Penetrate  the 
Rockies— The  Peace  River— A  Marvellous  Escape -The  Pacific  Reached 
h  Land— Perils  of  the  Sea  and  of  the  Wilderness  .         .         .     220-236 

CHAPTER  XIV. 
HI.STORICAL. 

Captain  Cook's  Explorations— The  American  Fur  Company— First 
Exploration  of  the  Eraser  River— Expedition  of  Ross  Cox- Cannibalism 
—Simplicity  of  a  Voyageur—Sir  George  Simpson's  Journey— Disccrvery 


Contents. 


IX 


of  Gofd  in  iSsS—riw  Pal  User  Expedition— Dr.  Hector's  Adventures- 
Milton  and  Cheadlc — Growtli  of  tlie  Dominion — Railroad  Surveys  — 
Construction  of  the  Railroad— Historical  Periods— Future  Popularity 
of  the  Canadian  Rockies         .......     237-257 

CHAPTER  XV. 

Tin-  Pleasures  of  the  Natural  Sciences — Inter io'-  of  the  luxrth — 
Thickness  of  the  Crust — Origin  and  Cause  of  Mountains— Their  Age  and 
Slo^x'  Groii'th — System  in  Mountain  Arrangement — The  Cordilleran  Sys- 
tem—  The  Canadian  Rockies — Comparison  with  Other  Mountain  Regions — 
Climate — Cause  of  Chinook  I  Finds — /-^Jfect  of  High  Latitude  on  Sun  and 
Moon — Principal  Game  Animals — Xature  of  the  Forests — Mountain 
Lakes — Camp  Experiences— Fffect  on  the  Character         .        .     258-275 


IxnKX 


J77--«3 


FULL-PAGE  PHOTOGRAVURES. 


Mount  Assinihoink  .        .        . 

Haxff  Sprincs  Hotki.       .        .        .        . 

Bow  RuER  AM)  CAscADr;  Mountain 

Lake  Louise 

Mount  Lefrov  and  Mirror  Lake 
Lake  Agnes  (in  eariy  juiy,  isg,-) 

T<  >M    CHINI(^U\'    I  liy  courtesy  i>f  Mr.  S.  H.  Thompson,  N'cw  Westu 

Mount  Temple,  from  the  Saddee 
Discovery  of  Paradise  Valley     . 
Cami'  in  Paradise  Valley 
Mount  Sir  Donald,  from  Eagle  Peak 
Head  of  Rocky  Mountain  Sheep 

North  Lake       

Summit  Lake,  near  Mount  Assinimoine 
Head  of  Rocky  Mountain  Goat  cshotjuiy  ,a, 

The    W'APUTEHK     Range    n.ookinu  across  the  ranjrc  from 


pagb 


tronttSj 

Oliii 

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4 

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10 

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18 

• 

38 

4:; 

nin'iti'r,  H. 

C) 

50 

• 

78 
92 

108 

• 

126 

•               « 

•  32 
.     152 

.   154 

'S95)    . 

164 

ne.ir  Hector) 

184 

( 


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Mi 


'^w 


Xll 


Full-Page  Photogravures. 


Mount  Daly 

Ul'PER    Bow     Lake    (Looking  e^st) 
Ul'PKR    Bow     LAKK    (Looking  wesO 


Source  ok  the  Little  Fork  ok  the  Saskatchewan 
River 


Storm  in  Little  Fork  Valley 
Mount  Hector  and  Slate  Mountains 

(From  summit  of  a  mountain   near  Little  Fork  Pass,  lo, 

Cami'  at  Little  Fork  Pass  . 
Upper  Bow  Lake  (Looking  south)  . 
Emerald  Lake  and  Mount  Field 


25  feet  in  altitude) 


PAGR 

192 
196 

200 

206 
208 

210 
212 

270 

272 


ILLUSTRATIONS  IN  THE  TEXT 


RUNDI.E    MOUNTAIX   AND    BOW    RiVHR 

LAKK     Louise    (Looking  toward    chalet) 

Anemones    .... 
A  Cool  Rktrkat  in  the  Forest 
Summit  ok  Mount  Temple 
Glacier  House 

Pevio   

Packlnc;  the  Buckskin  . 
Calypso  .... 
Approaching  the  Pass     . 

North     LAKI",    (Looking  northwest i 

Haunt  of  the  Mountain  Goat 

Mount    ASSINIBOINE    iFrom  northwest) 

Lake  on  Vlr>hlion  Pass 
Ready  to  March 
Camp  at  Upper  Bow  Lake 
The  " Bay  "... 
Falls  of  Leanchoil 


•5 
31 
40 

75 
"5 
120 
140 
142 

143 
149 

157 
165 
167 
181 
186 
202 
214 
249 


■Hi 


CAMPING  IN 
THE  CANADIAN  ROCKIES. 


CHAPTER  I. 

Banff— Its  Location — T/ie  Village —  Tourists — Hotels— Topoi^raphy 
of  the  Re,^ion — Rundle  and  Cascade  Mountains  — The  Devil's  l.akt — Sir 
George  Simpson's  yourney  to  this  Region — Peechee  the  Indian  Guidi — 
An  Indian  Legend— The  Missionary  Rundle— Dr.  Hector— The  Climate 
of  Banff — A  Summer  Snow-Storm — The  Mountains  in  Winter. 

THE  principal  resort  of  tourists  and  sportsmen  in 
the  Rocky  Mountains  of  Canada  is  Banfif,  The 
location  of  the  town  or  village  of  Banff  might  be 
briefly  described  as  being  just  within  the  eastern-most 
range  of  the  Rocky  Mountains,  about  one  hundred  and 
fifty  miles  north  of  the  International  boundary,  or  where 
the  Canadian  Pacific  Railway  begins  to  pierce  the  com- 
plex system  of  mountains  which  continue  from  this  point 
westward  to  the  Pacific  coast. 

Banff  is  likewise  the  central  or  focal  point  of  the 
Canadian  National  Park.  There  is  so  much  of  scenic 
interest  and  natural  beauty  in  the  surrounding  mountains 
and  valleys,  that  an  area  of  some  two  hundred  and  sixty 


The  Canadian  Rockies. 


■4 


square  miles  has  been  reserved  in  this  re.Ljion  by  the  irov- 
ernment  and  laid  out  with  fine  roads  and  bridle-paths 
to  points  of  special  interest.  Order  is  enforced  by  a  body 
of  men  known  as  the  Northwest  Mounted  Police,  a  detach- 
ment of  which  is  stationed  at  Banff.  This  or<ranization 
has  been  wonderfully  effective  for  many  years  past  in 
preserving  the  authority  of  the  laws  throughout  the  vast 
extent  of  northwestern  Canada  by  means  of  a  number  of 
men  that  seems  altogether  insufficient  for  that  purpose. 

The  small  and  scattered  village  of  Banff  occupies  a 
flat  plain  near  the  Bow  River.     This  large  stream,  the 
south   branch  of  the  Saskatchewan,  one  of  the  greatest 
rivers  of  North  America,  is  at  this  point  not  only  deep 
and  swift  but  fully  one  hundred  yards  in  width.     A  fine 
iron  bridge  spans  the  river  and  leads  to  the  various  hotels 
all  of  which    an^  south  of  the  village.     The  permanent 
population  numbers  some  half  thousand,  while  the  various 
stores,  dwellings,  and  churches  have  a  general  air  of  neat- 
ness and  by  their  new  appearance  suggest  the  fact  that 
the  history  of  Banff  extends  back  only  one  decade. 

During  the  summer  season,  the  permanent  population 
of  Banff  i'^  sometimes  nearly  doubled  by  a  great  invasion 
of  tourists  and  travellers  from  far  distant  regions.  Over- 
land tourists  from  India,  China.  Ceylon,  and  England,  the 
various  countries  of  Europe  and  the  Dominion  of  Canada, 
but  chiefly  from  the  United  States,  form  the  greater  part 
of  this  cosmopolitan  assemblage,  in  which,  however, 
almost  every  part  of  the  globe  is  occasionally  represented. 
Some   are  bent    on    sport    with    rod    or  gun;  others     a 


f 


.A, 


Ml 


i 


i 


.^S 


Tourists. 


mountaineering  or  camping  expeditions,  but  the  great 
maiority  are  en  route  to  distant  countries  and  make  Banff 
a  stop[)ing-plac(;  for  a  short  period. 

Arrived  at  Banff,  the  traveller  is  confronted  by  a 
line  of  hack  drivers  and  hotel  employes  shouting  in  loud 
voices  the  names  and  praises  of  their  various  hotels. 
Such  sights  and  sounds  are  a  bles.sed  relief  to  the  tourist, 
who  for  several  days  has  witnessed  nothing  but  the 
boundless  plains  and  scanty  population  of  northwestern 
Canada.  The  chorus  of  rival  voices  seems  almost  a  wel- 
come back  to  civilization,  and  reminds  one  in  a  mild 
degree  of  some  railroad  station  in  a  great  metropolis. 
On  the  contrarx',  the  new  arrival  finds,  as  he  is  whirled 
rapiiUy  toward  his  hotel  in  the  coach,  that  he  is  in  a  mere 
country  village  surrounded  on  all  sides  by  high  mountains, 
with  here  and  there  patches  of  perpetual  snow  near  their 
lofty  summits. 

Though  the  surrounding  region,  the  adjacent  moun- 
tains, and  valleys  represent  nature  in  a  wild  and  almost 
primitive  state,  one  may  remain  at  Banff  attended  by  all 
the  comforts  of  civilization.  The  several  hotels  occujjy 
more  or  less  scattered  points  in  the  valley  south  from  the 
village.  Th(i  one  built  and  managed  by  the  railroatl 
stanils  apart  from  the  village  on  an  eminence  overlooking 
the  Bow  River.  It  is  a  magnificent  structure  capable  of 
accommodating  a  large  number  of  guests.  From  the 
verandas  and  porches  one  may  obtain  a  fine  panoramic 
view  of  the  surrounding  mountains,  and  on  the  side 
towards  th(;  river  the  view   combines   water,  forest,   and 


•*/!' 


4  The  Canadian  Rockies. 

mountain  sctMiery  in  a  most  jjUjasinij  mannt.T.  The  How 
RivL-r,  sonK!  three  hundred  feet  below,  comes  in  from  the  left 
and  dashes  in  a  snowy  cascade  throuj^di  a  rocky  .t,'or(fe,  then, 
swe(.'pinL,f  away  towards  the  <;ast,  is  joined  by  tht;  S[)ray 
River,  a  mad  mountain  torrent  deep  and  swift,  but  clear 
as  crystal,  and  with  cold  water  of  that  deep  blue  color 
indicatini^  its  mountain  orii^dn.  Tlu;  wonderful  rapidity 
with  which  these  mountain  streams  llow  is  a  source  of 
astonishment  and  wonder  to  those  familiar  only  witli  the 
sluggish  rivers  of  lowland  regions.  Standing  on  the  lit- 
tle iron  bridge  which  carries  the  road  across  the  stream 
and  looking  down  on  the  water,  1  have  often  imagined  I 
was  at  the  stern  of  an  ocean  greyhound,  so  rapidly  does 
each  ripple  or  inequality  sweep  under  and  away  from  the 
eye.  Though  the  water  is  less  than  a  yard  in  depth,  the 
current  moves  under  the  bridge  at  the  rate  of  from  nine 
to  ten  miles  an  hour. 

The  best  point  from  which  to  get  a  good  general  idea 
of  the  topography  of  Banff  and  its  surroundings  is  from 
the  summit  of  a  little  hill  known  as  Tunnel  Mountain. 
It  is  centrally  located  in  the  wide  valley  ot  the  Bow,  above 
which  it  rises  exactly  looo  feet,  an  altitude  great  enough 
to  make  it  appear  a  high  mountain  were  it  not  dwarfed 
by  its  mighty  neighbors.  The  view  from  the  summit  is 
not  of  exceedim/  grandeur,  but  is  well  worth  the  labor  of 
the  climb,  especially  as  a  good  path,  with  occasional  seats 
for  the  weary,  makes  the  walk  an  easy  one.  The  top  of 
the  mountain  is  still  far  below  the  tree  line,  though  the 
earth  is  too  thin  to  nourish  a  rich  forest.     The  soil  was 


■4 
,.J; 


i,., 


I 


Banff  Springs  Hotel. 


( 


1 


■.::%:.. 


^■'■'■^  "' 


'\tii  ^li^'V 


-'^w<:^l- 


/ 


i,  7 


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\'icw  from  Tunnel  Mountain. 


5 


all  carried  away  in  the  Ice  Agt,  for  there  are  abundant 
proofs  that  this  mountain  was  once  flooded  by  a  glacier 
coming  down  the  Bow  valle\-.  The  bare  limestone  of  the 
summit  is  grooved  in  great  channels  pointing  straight  up 
the  Bow  valley.  In  some  places  scratches  made  by  the  ice 
are  \isible,  and  there  are  many  quartz  boulders  strewed 
about  which  have  been  carried  here  from  some  distant 
region. 

The  meandering  course  of  the  Bow  River,  the  village, 
the  hay  meadows  and  grassy  swamps,  all  form  a  pretty 
picture  in  the  Hat  valley  below.  The  eastern  face  of 
Tunnel  Mountain  is  wellnigh  perpendicular.  The  trail 
leads  along  near  the  summit  and  allows  thrilling  views 
down  the  sheer  precipice  to  the  flat  valley  of  the  Bow 
River  far  below.  The  trees  and  prominent  objects  of  the 
landscape  seem  like  toys,  and  the  adjacent  plains  resemble 
a  colored  map.  There  are  no  houses  or  dwellings  in  view 
on  this  side,  but  a  drove  of  horses  grazing  contentedly  in 
a  pasture  near  the  river,  awaiting  their  turn  to  be  sent  out 
into  the  mountains  in  the  pack  train  of  some  sportsman 
or  mountaineer,  gives  life  and  animation  to  the  scene. 
On  either  side  are  two  high  mountains,  conspicuous  by 
their  unusual  outlines  and  great  altitude.  The  one  to 
the  south  is  Rundle  Mountain.  It  rises  in  a  great  curving 
slope  on  its  west  side,  and  terminates  in  a  rugged  escarp- 
ment with  precipitous  cliffs  to  th(;  east,  which  tnwer  in 
wonderful  grandeur  more  than  5000  feet  above  the  flood 
plains  of  the  Bow  River  near  its  base. 

On  the  opposite  side  is  Cascade   Mountain,  which   is 
remarkable   in  being  of  almost  identical  height,  and  is  in 


The  Canadian  Rockies. 


fact  just  two  feet  lower,  as  determined  by  the  topographi- 
cal  survey.      The   name  of  this  mountain  was  given  by 
reason  of  a  large  stream  which  falls  from  ledge  to  ledge 
down  the  cliffs  of  its  eastern  face  in  a  beautiful  cascade. 
Both  this  and  Rundle  Mountain  are  composed  of  the  old 
Devonian   and    Carboniferous   limestones,  the   strata   of 
which    are   plainly   visible.     The  structure   is    that   of  a 
great   arch  or  anticline  which   has  been  completely  over- 
turned, so   that    the    older    beds   are   above    the    newer. 
Several  mil  .s  towards  the  east,  the  end  of  Devil's  Lake 
may  be  seen  appearing  through  a  notch  in  the  mountains. 
A  fine   road  nine  miles  in  length  has  been  made  to  this 
lake  and  is  one  of  the  most  popular  drives  in  the  vicinity 
of  Banff.     The  lake  is  very  long  and  narrow,  about  nine 
miles   in   length  by  three  fourths  of  a  mile   in   extreme 
breadth.     The  scenery  is  grand,  but  rather  desolate,  as  the 
bare  mountain  walls  on  either  side  o'  the  lake  are  not 
relieved  by  forests   or  abundant   vegetation   of  any  kind. 
The   lake  is,  however,  a  great  resort  for  sportsmen  as  it 
abounds    in    large    trout,    of  which   one  taken   last  year 
weighed  thirty-four  pounds.     The  name  of  the  lake  gives 
illustration  of  the  tendency  among  savages  and   civilized 
people   to  dedicate  prominent   objects   of   nature  to  the 
infernal  regions  or  the  master  spirit  thereof.     There  is  no 
apparent  limit  to  the  number  of  places  named  after  the 
Devil  and  his  realm,  while  the  names  suggested  by  more 
congenial  places  are  conspicuous  by  their  absence.     The 
original  name.  Lake    Peechee,  was  given  by  Sir  George 
Simpson  in  honor  of  his  guide. 


I 


Sir  George  Simpson. 


i 

•"I 


The  scattered  threads  of  history  which  relate  to  this 
part  of  the  Rocky  Mountains  are  suggested  by  th(;se 
names  and  indeed  this  hike  has  an  unusual  interest  for  this 
reason.  In  a  region  where  explorations  have  been  very 
few  and  far  between,  and  where  only  the  vague  traditions 
of  warlike  events  among  the  Indians  form  a  great  part  of 
the  history,  each  fragment  and  det  ul  set  forth  by  the  old 
explorers  acquires  an  increased  interest. 

Previous  to  the  arrival  of  the  railroad  surveyors,  the 
chief  men  on  whom  our  attention  centres  are  Sir  George 
Simpson,  Mr.  Rundle,  and  Dr.  Hector. 

The  expedition  of  Sir  George  Simpson  possesses  much 
of  interest  in  every  way  He  claims  to  have  been  the  first 
man  to  accomplish  an  overland  journey  around  the  world 
from  east  to  west.  After  having  traversed  the  trreater 
part  of  the  continent  of  North  America,  he  entered  the 
stupendous  gates  of  the  Rocky  Mountains  in  the  autumn 
of  1841.  He  travelled  witli  wonderful  rapidity,  and  was 
wont  to  cover  from  twenty  to  sixty  miles  a  day,  according 
to  the  nature  of  the  country.  His  outfit  consisted  of  a 
large  band  of  horses,  about  forty-five  in  number,  attended 
by  cooks  and  packers  sufficient  for  the  needs  of  this  great 
expedition.  Nevertheless  the  long  cavalcade  of  animals, 
when  spread  out  in  Indian  file  along  the  narrow  trails  were 
difficult  to  manage,  and  it  not  infrequently  happened  that 
on  reaching  camp  several  horses  proved  to  be  missing,  a 
fact  which  would  necessitate  some  of  the  men  returning 
fifteen  or  twenty  miles  in  search  of  them. 

Passing  to  the  south  of  the   Devil's   Head,  a  remark- 


i . 


< 


8 


The  Canadian  Rockies. 


able  and  conspicuous  mountain  wiiich  may  be  rcco_srnized 
far  out  on  the  plains,  Sir  George  Simpson  entered  the 
valley  occupied  by  the  lake.  In  this  part  of  h's  journey 
he  was  guided  by  a  half-breed  Indian  named  Peechee,  a 
chief  of  the  Mountain  Crees.  Peechee  lived  with  his  wife 
and  family  on  the  bortlers  of  this  lake,  and  Simpson 
named  it  after  him.  a  name,  however,  which  never 
gained  currency.  Dr.  Dawson  transferred  the  name  to 
a  high  mountain  south  of  the  lake,  and  substituted  the 
Indian  name  of  Minnewanka,  or  in  English,  Devil's  Lake. 

The  guide  Peechee  seems  to  have  possessed  much 
influence  among  his  fellows,  and  whenever,  as  was  often 
the  case,  the  Indians  gathered  around  their  camp-f^res 
and  gossiped  about  their  adventures,  Peechee  was  listened 
to  with  the  closest  attention  on  the  part  of  all.  Nothing 
more  delights  the  Indians  than  to  indulge  their  passion  for 
idle  talk  when  assemljled  together,  especially  when  under 
the  soothing  and  peaceful  influence  of  tobacco, — a  fact 
that  seems  strange  indeed  to  those  who  see  them  only 
among  strangers,  where  they  are  wont  to  be  remarkably 
silent. 

A  circumstance  of  Indian  history  connected  with  the 
east  end  of  the  lake  is  mentioned  by  Sir  George  Simpson, 
and  admirably  illustrates  the  nature  of  savage  warfare. 
A  ».  ree  and  his  wife,  a  short  time  previously,  had  been 
tracked  and  pursued  by  five  Indians  of  a  hostile  tribe  into 
the  mountains  to  a  point  near  the  lake.  At  length  they 
were  espied  and  attacked  by  their  pursuers.  Terrified  by 
the  fear  of  almost  certain  death,  the  Cree  advised  his  wife 


¥ 


An  Indian  Legend. 


to  submit  without  defending  herself.  She,  however,  was 
possessed  of  a  more  courageous  spirit,  and  repHed  that  as 
thev  were  young  and  had  but  one  Hfe  to  lose  thev  had 
better  put  forth  ever)-  effort  in  self-defence.  Accordingly 
she  raised  her  rifle  and  brought  down  the  foremost  warrior 
with  a  well  aimed  shot.  Her  husband  was  now  impelled 
by  desperation  and  shame  to  join  the  contest,  and  mor- 
tally wounded  two  of  the  advancing  foe  with  arrows. 
There  were  now  but  two  on  each  side.  The  fourth  war- 
rior had,  however,  by  this  time  reached  the  Cree's  wife  and 
with  upraised  tomahawk  was  on  the  point  of  cleaving  her 
head,  when  his  foot  caught  in  some  inequality  of  the 
ground  and  he  fell  prostrate.  With  lightning  stroke  the 
undaunted  woman  buried  her  dagger  in  his  side.  Dis- 
mayed by  this  unexpected  slaughter  of  his  companions, 
the  fifth  Indian  took  to  llight  after  woundintr  the  Cree  in 
his  arm, 

Rundle  Mountain,  which  has  been  already  mentioned 
and  which  forms  one  of  the  most  striking  mountains  in 
the  vicinity  of  Banff,  is  named  after  a  Wesleyan  mission- 
ary who  for  many  years  carrried  on  h's  pious  labors 
among  the  Indians  in  the  vicinity  of  Edmonton.  Mr. 
Rundle  once  visited  this  region  and  remained  camped  for 
a  considerable  time  near  the  base  of  Cascade  Mountain, 
probably  shortly  after  Sir  George  Simpson  explored  this 
region.  The  work  of  Mr.  Rundle  among  the  Indians 
appears  to  have  been  highly  successful,  if  one  may  judge 
by  the  present  condition  of  the  Stoneys,  who  are  honest, 
truthful,  and  but   little  given  to  the  vices  of  civilization. 


(, 


*ii,  ""11    IIPJl 

1 


IMI 


lO 


The  Canadian  Rockies. 


Even  to  this  clay  the  visitor  may  see  them  at  Banff 
dressed  in  partly  civilized,  partly  savage  attire,  or  on  rare 
occasions  decked  out  in  all  the  feathers  and  beaded  belts 
and  moccasins  that  go  to  make  up  the  sum  total  of  savage 
splendor. 

Our  attention  comes  at  last  to  Dr.  Hector,  who  was 
connected  with  the  Palliser  expedition.  It  is  exceed- 
ingly unfortunate  that  the  blue-book  in  which  the  vast 
amount  of  useful  information  and  interesting  adventure 
connected  with  this  expedition  is  so  clearly  set  forth 
should  be  now  almost  cut  of  print.  There  are  no  availa- 
ble copies  in  the  United  States  or  Canada  and  but  very 
few  otherwise  accessible.  Dr.  Hector  followed  up  the 
Bow  River  and  passed  the  region  now  occupied  by  Banff 
in  the  year  1858.  He  was  accompanied  by  the  perse- 
vering and  ever  popular  botanist,  Bourgeau.  Under  the 
magic  spell  of  close  observation  and  clear  description,  the 
most  commonplace  affairs  assume  an  unusual  interest  in 
all  of  Dr.  Hector's  reports.  It  is  very  evident  that 
game  was  much  more  abundant  in  those  early  days  than 
at  present.  For  instance,  Dr.  Hector's  men  shot  two 
mountain  sheep  near  the  falls  of  the  Bow  River,  which  are 
but  a  few  minutes' walk  from  the  hotel.  Likewise  when 
making  a  partial  ascent  of  the  Cascade  Mountain,  Dr. 
Hector  came  on  a  large  herd  of  these  noble  animals,  con- 
cerning which  so  many  fabulous  tales  of  their  daring  leaps 
down  awful  precipices  have  been  told.  He  also  mentions 
an  interesting  fact  about  the  death  of  a  mountain  goat. 
An   Indian  had  shot  a  goat  when  far  up  on  the  slope  of 


lO 


Boii)  Rivey  and  Cascade  Mountain. 


1 

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The  Climate  of  lianff. 


II 


Cascade  Mountain,  but  tlu;  animal,  though  hatiiy  wouiulccl, 
niana_i((;(l  to  work  its  \va)'  around  to  somv.  inaccessible 
clitls  near  tlu;  cascade;.  Here  the  poor  animal  linji[ered 
for  s(;ven  days  with  no  less  than  live  bull(;ts  in  its  body, 
till  at  length  death  came  and  it  f(;ll  headlong  down  the 
precipice. 

The  climate  of  HanH"  during  the  months  of  July  and 
August  is  almost  perfection.  'Vhv.  high  altitude  of  4500 
feet  above;  the  sea-level  nMulers  the  nights  invariabl)-  cool 
and  pleasant,  whih;  the  mid-day  heat  rartdy  reaches  80"  in 
the  shade.  There  is  but  little  rain  during  this  itcriod 
and  in  fact  there  an-  Init  two  drawbacks, — mosquitoes  and 
forest-fire  smoke.  The  mosquitoes,  h.owever,  are  only 
troublesome  iii  tht;  deep  woods  or  by  the  swampy  tracts 
near  the  river.  The  smoke  from  forest  fires  frequently 
becomes  so  thick  as  to  obscure  the  mountains  and  veil 
them  in  a  yellow  pall  through  which  the  sun  shines  with 
a  weird  light. 

An  effect  of  the  high  nortiiern  latitude  of  this  part  of 
the  Rocky  Mountains  is  to  make  the  summer  days  very 
long.  In  June  and  early  July  the  sun  does  not  set  till 
nine  o'clock,  and  the  twilight  is  so  bright  that  fine  print 
can  be  read  out  doors  till  eleven  o'clock,  and  in  fact  there 
is  more  or  less  liglit  at  midnight. 

In  June  and  September  one  never  knows  what  to 
expect  in  the  way  of  weather.  I  shall  give  two  examples 
which  will  set  forth  the  possibilities  of  these  months, 
though  one  must  not  imagine  that  th(;y  illustrate  the 
ordinary   course   of  events.       In    the    summer    of    1895, 


( 


ft 


13 


The  Canadian  Rockies. 


after  haviiiL^  siifftTcil  from  a  Ioiil;  period  of  intcMisely  hot 
weather  in  the  east,  I  arrived  at  HaiitT  on  tlie  14th  of 
June.  It  was  siiowiiij,^  and  the  station  phitfonn  was  cov- 
ered to  a  depth  of  six  inches.  The  next  day,  howevt-r, 
1  ascended  Tunnel  Mountain  and  found  a  most  extraor- 
dinary combination  of  summer  and  wintt-r  effects.  The 
snow  still  remainc.'d  ten  or  twelv(;  inches  deep  on  the 
mountain  sides,  thouj^h  it  hail  alread)"  nearly  disapi)eared 
in  the  valle)-.  Under  this  wintry  mantle  were  man)'  varie- 
ties o(  beautiful  llowers  in  full  bloom,  and,  most  conspicu- 
ous of  all,  wild  roses  in  profusion,  apparently  uninjurtxi 
by  this  unusually  late  snow-storm.  1  made  a  sad  discov- 
ery near  the  top  of  the  mountain.  S(;(Mn_<j  a  little  bird 
fly  up  from  the  j^^round  apparently  out  from  the  snow, 
I  examined  more  closely  and  observed  a  narrow  snow- 
tunnel  leading-  down  to  the  [ground.  Removinjr  the 
snow  1  founil  a  ni^st  containing,'  four  or  five  young  birds 
all  dead,  their  feeble  spark  of  life  chilled  away  by  the 
damp  snow,  whilt:  the  mother  bird  had  been,  even  when 
I  arrived,   vainly  trying  to  nurse  them  back  to  life. 

This  storm  was  said  to  be  very  unusual  for  the  time 
of  year.  The  poplar  trees  in  full  summer  foliage  suffered 
severely  and  were  bent  down  to  the  ground  in  great 
arches,  from  whicii  oosition  they  did  not  fully  recover 
all  summer,  while  ihe  leaves  were  blighted  by  the  frost. 
As  a  general  rule,  lu>  '^ever,  mountain  trees  and  herbs 
possess  an  unusual  vitalit)',  and  endure  snow  and  frost  or 
prolonged  dry  weather  in  a  remarkable  manner.  The 
various  flowers  which  were  buried  for  a  week  by  this  late 


4 


« 


'i 


(* 


ihc  Mountains  in  Winter. 


'3 


storm  appeared  hrii^dit  ami  vijjforoiis  after  a  few  warm 
days  had   ninovcil  the  snow. 

Toward  tlic  end  of  September,  1S95,  there  were  two 
or  three  chiys  of  t.-xceptioiially  cold  weather,  the  ther- 
mometer rec()rilin_i^  6'  l-'ahrcnheit  one  morninj^.  i  made 
an  ascent  of  Sulphur  Mount. lin,  a  ridj^^e  risinjj;  about 
3,000  feet  above  the  valley,  on  the  coUU^st  ilay  of  that 
period.  The  sun  shone  out  of  a  sky  «)f  the  clearest 
blue  without  a  sinj^de  cloud  except  a  f(;vv  scattered  wisps 
of  cirrus  here  and  there.  The  mountain  summit  is  cov- 
ered with  a  few  stra}j^,i,dinj4^  spruces  which  maintain  a  bare 
existence  at  this  altitude.  The  whole  summit  of  the 
mountain,  the  trees,  and  rocks  were  covered  by  a  thick 
mantle  of  snow,  dry  and  powdery  by  reason  of  th(;  severe 
cold.  The  chill  of  the  previous  night  had  condensed  a 
beautiful  frost  over  the  surface  of  the  snow  everywhere. 
Shining  scales  of  transparent  ice,  thin  as  mica  and  some 
half-inch  across,  stood  on  edge  at  all  jjossible  angles  and 
reflected  the  bright  sunlitrht  from  thousands  of  brilliant 
surfaces.  This  little  glimpse  of  winter  was  even  more 
pleasing  than  the  view  from  the  summit,  for  the  moun- 
tains near  Banff  do  not  afford  the  mountain  climber  pfrand 
panoramas  or  striking  scenery.  They  tend  to  run  in  long 
regular  ridges,  uncrowned  by  glaciers  or  extensive  snow- 
fields. 

A  never  failing  source  of  amusement  to  the  residents 
of  Banff,  as  well  as  to  those  more  experienced  in  mountain 
climbing,  is  afforded  by  those  lately  arrived  but  ambitious 
tourists  who   look  up  at  the  mountains  as  though  they 


( 


i   .1 


h 


H 


The  Canadian  Rockies. 


were  little  hills,  and  proceed  forthwith  to  scale  the  very 
highest  peak  on  the  day  of  their  arrival.  A  few  years 
ago  some  gentlemen  became  possessed  of  a  desire  to 
ascend  Cascade  Mountain  and  set  off  with  the  intention 
of  returning  the  next  day  at  noon.  Instead  of  following 
the  advice  of  those  who  knew  the  best  route,  they  would 
have  it  that  a  course  over  Stoney  Squaw  Mountain,  an 
intervening  high  ridge,  was  far  better,  Tiiey  returned 
three  days  later,  after  having  wandered  about  in  burnt 
timber  so  long  that,  begrimed  with  charcoal,  they  could 
not  be  recognized  as  white  men.  It  is  not  known  whether 
they  ever  so  much  as  reached  the  base  of  Cascade  Moun- 
tain, but  it  is  certain  that  they  .-etired  to  bed  upon  arriv- 
ing at  the  hotel  and  remained  there  the  greater  part  of 
the  ensuing  week, 

Cascade  Mountain,  however,  is  a  difficult  mountain 
to  ascend,  not  because  there  are  steep  cliffs  «ji  rough 
places  to  overcome,  but  because  almost  every  one  takes 
the  wrong  slope.  This  leads  to  a  loft}'  escarpment,  and 
just  when  the  mountaineer  hopes  to  find  himself  on  the 
summit,  the  real  mountain  appear'^  beyond,  while  a  great 
gulf  separates  >he  two  peaks  and  removes  the  possibility 
of  making  the  ascent  that  day. 

Banff,  with  its  fine  drives  and  beautiful  scenery,  its 
luxurious  hotels  and  delightful  climate,  will  ever  enjoy 
popularity  among  tourists.  The  river  above  the  falls  is 
wide  and  deep  and  flows  with  such  gentle  current  as  to 
render  boating  safe  nnd  delightful.  The  Vermilion  lakes, 
with  their  low  reedy  shores  and  swarming  wild  fowl,  offer 


I  !l 


Vermilion  Lakes. 


15 


charmiiijj;'  places  for  the  canoe  and  oarsman,  at  least  wlien 
the  mosquitoes,  the  great  pest  of  our  \v(-stern  plains  .uul 
mountains,  temporarily  disappear.  Nevertheless,  tiu,-  cli- 
mate of  Banff  partakes  of  tin;  som(.'\vhat  dryer  nature  o' 
the  lesser  antl  more  eastern  sub-ran-i^es  of  the  Rocky  Moun- 
tains.  There  is  not  sufficient  moisture  to  nourish  tlie 
rich  for  ?sts,  vast  snow-fields,  and  thunderino-  o^laciers  of 
the  higher  ranges  to  tlu;  west,  which  in  imagination  we 
shall  visit  in  the  ensuing  chapters. 


( 


RJNDLE  MOUNTAIN  AND  BOW  RIVER. 


i| 


CHAPTER  II. 


Lake  Louise — First  Impressions — An  Abode  of  Perpetual  Winter — 
The  Chalet —  /  'isitors —  Stirring  Tales  of  Aiivt  nture — Primeval  Forests — 
Forest  Fir's — Mosquitoes  ami  Bull-Dog  Flies — Aforlal  Combats  bctioee, 
JVasps  and  Bull- Dogs —  The  Old  Chalet — Morning  on  the  Lake— Approach 
of  a  Storm — Sublimity  of  a  Mountain  Thunder- Storm — Cloud  Effects — 
The  Lake  in  October — A  Magnificent  Avalanche  from  Mt.  Lefroy — A 
IVaining  of  Approaching  Winter. 


LAKE  LOUISE  is  one  of  the  most  beautiful 
sheets  of  water  in  the  Canadian  Rockies.  Many 
who  have  travelled  extensively  say  it  is  the 
most  charming  spot  they  have  ever  beheld.  The  lake 
is  small,  but  there  is  a  harmonious  blending  of  grandeur 
and  quiet  beauty  in  the  surrounding  mountains  which 
in  some  way  makes  a  perfect  picture  out  of  lofty  snow 
peaks  in  the  dista  .ce  and  dark  forested  slopes  near  at 
hand. 

The  lake  is  a  little  more  than  a  mile  long  and  about 
one  fourth  of  a  mile  wide.  The  outline  is  rem.ukably 
like  that  of  the  left  human  foot.  Forests  come  down 
nearly  to  the  water's  edge  on  all  sides  of  the  lake,  but 
there  is  a  narrow  margin  of  rough  angul  ir  stones  where 
the  ripples  from  the  lake  have   washed  out  the  soil     a^i 


I 


First  Impressions. 


17 


even  undermined  the  trees  in  some  places.  The  water  is 
a  bUie-i^reen  color,  so  clear  that  the  stones  on  the  bot- 
tom and  the  old  water-logged  trunks  of  trees,  long  since 
wrested  from  the  siiores  by  storms  and  avalanches,  may 
be  discerned  even  in  several  fathoms  of  water.  The  lake 
is  230  feet  deep  in  the  centre,  and  the  bottom  slopes  down 
very  suddenly  from  the  shores. 

The  west  shore  makes  a  gently  sinuous  or  wavy  line, 
forming  little  bays  and  capes.  Ever  new  and  artistic 
foregrounds  are  thus  presented,  with  the  forest  making  a 
retreatinor  line  of  vewtation  down  the  shore.  Nothing 
could  be  more  beaut-.'ul  than  this  border  of  the  lake, 
rough  and  tangled  though  it  is,  with  a  strange  mingling 
of  sharp  bouUlers  and  prostrate  trees  covered  with  moss 
and  half  concealed  by  copses  of  alder  bushes  and  flowering 
shrubs. 

I  shall  never  forget  my  first  view  of  L'lke  Louise. 
From  the  station,  the  old  trail,  constantly  ascending  as  it 
approaches  the  lake,  leads  its  irregular  course  through 
the  forest.  After  a  walk  of  nearly  three  miles,  partial 
glimpses  of  the  'ake  and  surrounding  mcuntains  were 
obtained  from  amcMig  the  tall  spruce  trees,  A  short 
rapid  descent  of  a  small  ridge  placed  us  on  the  borders 
of  the  lake. 

It  would  be  difficult  indc;^!  to  give  even  a  partial  de- 
scription of  the  scene.  Imagi.ie  a  cool  -norning  with  the 
rising  sun  just  beginning  to  touch  the  surface  of  a  moun- 
tain lake.  The  air  is  trannvtil  and  calm  so  that  the  glassy 
surface  of  the  water  mirrors  the  sky  and  mountains  per- 


( 


HHH 


!    ! 


i8 


The  Canadian  Rockies. 


fectly.  In  the  realm  of  sound,  too,  all  is  repose  but  for  the 
call  of  birds  near  at  hand  among  the  balsam  trees.  From 
the  shores  of  the  lake  on  either  side  rise  great  mountains, 
showing  cliffs  and  rocky  ledges  or  long  sweeping  slopes 
of  forest  to  the  tree  line.  Higher  still  are  bare  slopes, 
crags,  ledges,  and  scattered  areas  of  snow.  At  the  end 
of  the  lake  a  great  notch  in  the  nearer  mountains  reveals 
at  a  distance  the  wall-like,  lofty  mass  of  Mount  Lefroy. 
This  m;  .'t  imposing  snowy  mountain  stands  square  across 
the  gap,  a  th   a  sharp  serrated  cliff  piercing  the  very 

vault  of  hea .  .n,  shuts  off  the  view  and  forms  the  most 
conspicuous  object  of  all.  The  lower  part  of  the  moun- 
tain is  a  vertical  cliff  or  precipice  where  the  longitudinal 
strata  are  distinctly  visible.  Above,  rise  alternating  slopes 
covered  with  perpetual  snow  and  hanging  glaciers,  the 
white-blue  ice  of  which  is  splintered  by  deep  rents  and 
dark  yawning  crevasses.  This  mountain  forms  part  of 
the  continental  water-shed,  for  on  the  other  side  the  melt- 
iny;  snows  finally  reach  the  Pacific  Ocean,  while  on  the 
near  side  the  snows  swept  into  the  valleys  by  avalanches, 
and  melted  by  the  warmer  air  of  lower  altitudes,  find  their 
way  at  length  into  the  Saskatchewan  River  and  Hudson 
Bay. 

There  is  something  wonderfully  attractive  about  this 
mountain.  The  pleasure  grows  as  one  continues  to  gaze 
at  the  immense  mass  ;  harsh  and  stern  and  cold  though  it 
be,  it  excites  awe  and  wonder  as  thougii  here  were  the 
rocky  foundation  and  substratum  of  the  globe.  This  is 
the  abode  of  perpetual  winter,  where  ice  and  snow  and 


I  '■ 


'•^- 


< 


Lake  Louise. 


in 


Vis- 


< 


I 


""•pijr""'"!*""  -—•^■^~ 


' 


Mountain  Flowers. 


•9 


bleak  rocks  exist  apart.  Here  all  is  graiul  but  menacin<^, 
clan.trerous.  and  forbiddin.L,r.  And  these  lii^h  mountains  and 
deep  valleys,  sut^jrestin^r  that  some  awful  storm  at  sea  had 
become  petrified  into  colossal  waves  to  stand  at  rest  for- 
(.'ver.  have  been  carved  out  by  rain  and  runnin<,r  water,  frost 
and  chancre  of  temperature,  through  the  lapse  of  count- 
less ages. 

Our  attention  finally  came  to  the  quiet  beauty  of  the 
surrounding  vegetation,  where  among  the  scattered  skir- 
mishers of  the  forest  are  flowering  shrubs,  and  in  the  more 
open  grassy  places  forming  the  swampy  borders  of  the 
lake,  are  many  bright  flowers.     The  white  mountain  anem- 
ones  in   several  varieties,  the  familiar  violets,  the  yellow 
columbine  with   beautiful  pendent  blossoms  claiming  re- 
lationship to  its  Eastern  cousin  with  scarlet  flowers^  the 
fragrant  spiranthes.  and  orchids  with  pale-green   flowers, 
resembling  insects  on  a  leafy  stem,   may  all  be  seen   in 
profusion  near  the  north  side  of  the  lake.      These  humble 
herbs,  with  their  gaudy  coloring,  are  the  growth  of  a  sin- 
gle season,  but  on   all   sides  are  copses  of  bushy  plants 
which  endure  the  long  winter,  some  of  them  clad  in  a  garb 
of   evergreen    and,   like    the  annual   plants,  bearing'ele- 
gant  floral  creations.     The  most  conspicuous  is  the  sheep 
laurel,  a  small  bush  adorned  with  a  profusion  of  crimson- 
red    flowers,    each    saucer-shaped,    hanging    in     corymbs 
among    the    small    green    leaves.      Various    shrubs    with 
white  flowers,  some  small  and  numerous,  others  large  and 
scattered,  make  a  contrast  to  the  ever  present  laurel,  while 
the  most  beautiful  of  all   is  a  species  of  mountain  rhodo- 


( 


w 


f 


20 


The  Canadian  Rockies. 


dciulron,  a  lartjt!  biisii,  tlic  most  tdetjant  amoiii;  the  moun- 
tain heaths,  with  hirLji;  wiiitc;  llowcrs  in  ckistered  umbels. 
In  earl  J'  Jul)-  this  bush  may  be  found,  here  and  there,  scat- 
tered sparintjly  in  the  forest  in  full  blossom  at  the  level 
of  Lake  Louise,  but  after  this  one  must  seek  ever  hiy^her 
on  the  mountain  sitle  as  the  advancinjj^  summer  creeps  to 
altitudes  where  spring  is  later. 

The  early  morninj^  visitor  turns  with  sharpened  appe- 
tite to  the  hotel,  if  wc;  may  call  it  such, — a  little  Swiss  chalet 
of  picturesque  architecture  built  on  an  eminence  in  full  view 
of  the  lake.  Here  the  tourist  may  live  in  rustic  comfort  for 
a  day,  or  for  weeks,  should  he  desire  to  prolong  his  visit. 

Tourists  come  sparinj^ly  to  Lake  Louise.  Unlike 
Banff  with  its  varied  attractions,  there  is  little  here  out- 
side of  nature,  and  few  have  the  power  to  appreciate 
nature  alone.  Of  those  who  do  come,  only  a  small 
number  really  see  the  lake  with  its  forests  and  mountains 
combined  in  exquisite  attractiveness.  They  see  the  out- 
lines of  mountains,  but  know  not  whether  they  are  near 
or  distant,  nor  whether  their  scale  is  measured  in  yards  or 
miles  ;  they  see  the  water  of  the  lake,  but  not  the  reflec- 
tions in  it,  the  ever  changing  effects  of  light  and  shade, 
sun  and  shadow,  ripple  and  calm.  There  are  trees  tall 
and  slender,  but  whether  they  be  spruce  or  pine,  larch  or 
hemlock,  is  all  the  same  ;  and  as  to  the  Howers — some  are 
differently  colored  from  others. 

A  visitor  to  the  lake  once  asked  in  good  faith,  appar- 
ently, if  the  mountains  at  the  head  of  the  lake  were  not 
white  from  chalk  ;  another,  why  the  water  of  the  stream 


■J 


Visitors. 


31 


— which  leads  out  from  tlic  hike  and  riisht^s  in  roaring 
cascatlcs  over  its  rocky  channel  towanl  the  How  River — 
runs  so  fast  down  hill. 

Fortunately,  however,  those  who  are  not  blessed  with 
that  ever  present  source;  of  pleasure,  a  lov<;  for  nature,  at 
least  to  a  sliij;ht  det^ree,  are  exc(;ptional.  Nevertheless, 
that  most  people  lose  much  pleasure  from  a  lack  of  close 
observation  is  often  painfully  evident.  I  have  seen,  alto- 
ifether.  several  luiiulred  tourists  arrive  at  the  lake,  coming 
as  they  do  in  small  parties,  or  singly,  from  day  to  day, 
and  have  found  it  a  very  interesting  stuily  to  observe 
their  first  impressions  as  the  lake  bursts  on  their  view. 
Some  remain  motionless  studying  the  details  of  the  scene, 
usually  devoting  their  chief  attention  to  the  lake  and  for- 
ests, but  less  to  the  mountains,  for  mountains  an;  the  least 
appreciated  of  all  the  wonders  of  nature,  and  are  not  fully 
revealed  except  after  years  of  experience.  Others  glance 
briefly  and  superficially  towards  the  lake,  and  rush  hastily 
into  the  chalet  for  breakfast,  balancing  their  love  for 
nature  against  hunger  for  material  things  in  uneven  scale. 
Some  remain  a  week  or  ten  days,  but  the  great  majority 
spend  a  single  day  and  leave,  feeling  that  they  have  ex- 
hausted the  charms  of  the  place  in  so  short  a  time.  A  single 
day  amid  surroundings  where  there  are  such  infinite  possi- 
bilities of  change  in  cloud  and  storm,  heat  and  cold,  the 
dazzling  glare  of  noon,  or  the  calm  rorr:.,  ;tlc  light  of  a 
full  moon,  and  the  .slow  progress  of  the  seasons,  gives  but 
one  picture,  a  single  mood  from  out  a  thousand,  and  it 
may  perchance  be  the  very  worst  of  all. 


n 


i 


r 


33 


The  C.inailian  Rockies. 


Upon  (liiiibin!:j  the  steps  to  th(!  opiiii  porch  of  tlie 
cliaht  iiiul  (•ntcrint,^  the  larLjf  spacious  sittiny-rooiii,  ihr. 
eye  falls  at  one*-  on  a  tircplacc  of  old-tiiiic  proportions, 
and  within  its  walls  of  brick,  lui^c  loj^^s  art;  burniniL;,  with 
more  vij^or  iiuUuul  hnt  hardly  less  constancy'  than  the 
ancient  firt-s  of  the  W.'stal  V'irjjfins.  Round  this  sjiacious 
hearth  visitors  and  j^niests  j^ather,  for  tlur  air  at  Lake 
Louise;  is  always  sharp  at  niornin|:;  and  (•veninL,^  Indeed, 
frosts  an;  not  rare  throuj^hout  the  summer  and  may  occur 
am'  week  even  in  hilv  and  Au<rust.  Tin;  hisdi  altituiU;  of 
tlu;  lake,  which  is  a  litth;  more  than  5600  feet  above 
sea-level,  is  in  i^aeat  part  the  cause  of  this  braciny; 
weather.  On  th(;  hottest  day  that  I  have;  t;verseen  at  the 
lake  in  tin;  course  of  three  summers  the  thermometer 
reijistered  only  78". 

The  visitors  who  come  to  Lake  Louise  are  of  the  s; 
cosmopolitan  charact(;r  and  varied  nationality  as  those  at 
Banff.  Often  of  a  cold  niii^ht  have  I  sat  by  the  large  fire, 
our  only  source  of  light,  and  listened  to  tales  of  adventure 
told  by  those  who  have  visited  the  most  distant  ami  un- 
frequented parts  of  the  earth.  Englishmen,  who  have 
spent  the  best  years  of  their  life  in  India,  were  among 
our  entertainers,  and  while  beverages  varying  in  nature 
according  to  nationality  or  tastes  of  each  were  passed 
around,  I  have  heard  thrilling  accounts  of  leopard  and 
tiger  hunts  in  the  jungle,  blood-curdling  tales  of  treachery 
and  massacre  or  daring  exploits  in  the  Indian  wars,  and 
rare  experiences  in  unknown  parts  of  Cashmere  and 
Thibet. 


I'iiiiic\al  I'\)rcsts. 


33 


Thoujjfh  tlu:  ^Tcat  majority  of  visitors  to  the  lake  arc 
straiij;t;rs,  thort;  arc  some  half-dozen  whose  familiar  faces 
reap|)(;ar  each  successive  season  ;  like  piii^rims  they  make 
this  reji,Mon  the  termination  of  a  lonn  annual  journey,  and 
he*-e  worship  in  "  tenv  ' -s  not  built  by  human  hamls." 
Amou}^  these  lovers  of  nature,  far  distant  linj^dantl  anil 
Ceylon  are  repr«3sented  no  less  than  the  nc.-arer  cities  of 
the  LJnit('d  Stat(;s.  The  peculiar  charms  of  this  locality 
present  an  incxhaustibU?  treasurehouse  of  deliL,ditful  ex- 
periences that  grow  by  familiarity.  One's  impressions  of 
the  beauty  of  the  lake  increase  j'ear  by  year  as  the  full 
ineanini;  of  each  detail  becomes  more  thoroughly  ap- 
preciated. 

A  fact  of  great  importanc  -■,  which  goes  far  to  make  up 
the  ciiscmblc  of  the  surroundings  of  Lake  Louise,  is  the 
perfect  condition  of  th<i  forests,  which  rise  in  uniform, 
swelling  slopes  of  dark-green  verdure  from  the  rocky 
shores  of  the  lake  far  up  the  mountain  sides  to  those 
high  altitudes  where  the  cold  air  suggests  an  eternal  winter 
and  dwarfs  the  struL^'dingf  trees  itito  mere  bushes.  The 
frequent  forest  fires,  which  have  wrought  so  much  destruc- 
tion throughout  the  entire  Canadian  Rockies,  have  not  as 
yet  swept  through  this  valley.  The  great  spruces  and 
balsams  of  this  primeval  forest  indicate  by  their  size  that 
for  hundreds  of  years  no  fire  has  been  through  this  region. 
Some  large  tree  stumps  near  the  chalet  show  hundreds  of 
rings,  and  one  that  I  counted  started  to  grow  in  the  year 
1492,  when  Columbus  set  forth  to  discover  the  western 
world. 


i 


i( 


24 


Tlic  Canadian  Rockies. 


% 


NcvcTtlu'U.'ss,  on  hot  days  after  a  lono  period  of  dry 
weather,  when  tlie  air  is  lachn  with  the  fras^rant  odor  of 
ih.e  tlri|)|)in_i;  balsam  aiul  of  the  ch')-  resin  lianleiied  in  yellow 
tears  on  the  scarred  trunks  of  the  trcv-s,  and  when  the 
dead  lower  branches  huPt;  with  lono  ,i;ray  moss  seem  to 
offer  all  the  most  combustible  n^aterials,  one  feels  certain 
that  the  sliohtest  spark  would  result  in  a  terrible  conlla- 
j^ ration.  Apparently,  however,  the  past  history  of  this 
vall(.')'  lias  nevi'r  recorded  a  fire,  whether  start(!d  by  care- 
less Indian  hunters  or  that  frecpient  cause,  lii^htninLj. 
So  far  as  I  am  aware,  there  are  no  laycs  of  burii:tl  char- 
coal or  ri'ddeiu  il  soil  uniler  the  present  forest  which 
woi:Id  indicati'  an  jiiicient  lue. 

Some  y«'ars  as^o — apparently  more  than  twenty, — a 
tu-e  destrov<'d  the  forest  near  tlu;  station  of  La}j;;<4an,  which 
is  less  th.i!)  two  miles  from  the  lake  in  a  straij^ht  line. 
I  he  tire  approachcl  within  a  mile  of  the  lake  and  then 
dii'd  out.  There  are  two  causes  which  will  always  tend 
to  preserve  these  beautiful  forests  if  tli(;  visitors  are  not 
careless  and  counteract  them.  The  prevalent  wind  is  out 
of  tht^  valley  toward  the  Hcnv  valley,  so  that  a  fire  would 
naturally  be  swept  away  from  the  lake.  Anoth(;r  cause 
is  the  natural  moisture  of  this  upland  region,  The  v(Ty 
luxuriance  of  the  vesj^etation  indicates  this,  while  in  the  early 
inor-uu!^  the  whole  forest  often  si'ems  reekinji^  with  moist- 
ure, even  when  there  has  been  no  rain  for  weeks.  The 
I  hill  of  night  appears  to  condense  a  lieavy  dew  under  the 
trees  and  moistens  ali  the  veoretation,  so  that  the  forest 
rarely  becomes  so  exceedingly  dry  as  often  happens  in 
wide  vallevs  at  lower  altitudes. 


Mosi|iiit()is  aii'I  lUilI-Doi^s. 


25 


Though  the  scenery  and  cliinale  at  Lake  Lonise  seem 
aliiUist  iileally  perfect  during;  the  summer  time,  nature 
always  ren  Icrs  compensation  in  some  form  or  other,  and 
never  allows  her  creatures  to  enjo_\-  complete  happin<'ss. 

I'he  borders  of  the  lake  and  the  damp  woods  linked  myriads 
of  mos(|uiloes,  which  conspire  to  annoy  and  torture  both 
man  and  heast.  riu;y  appear  earl)'  in  sprino  and  sud- 
denly vanish  about  the  15th  or  20th  of  August  each  )'ear. 

Tlu'  chill  of  niqht  causes  them  to  disap|)ear  about  ten 
o'clock  in  the  evcMiini;,  not  to  be  seen  a^ain  until  the 
atmosphere  begins  to  <;row  warm  in  tht^  mornint;  sun. 

Another  insect  pest  is  a  species  of  lly  called  tlu;  "  l)ull- 
doij,  "  a  name  sug<^esti;d  by  its  ferocious  bite.  These 
lari^e  insects  are  about  an  inch  in  length  and  art;  armed 
with  a  formidabk;  set  of  saws  with  which  they  can  rapidly 
cut  a  considerable  hole  throuj^h  the  skin  of  a  man  or  the 
hiil(!  of  a  horse.  The  bull-do^s  frecju(.'nt  the  valleys  of  th(; 
Canadian  Rockies,  varyins^  locally  in  their  numbers,  and 
seem  to  prefer  low  altitudes  and  a  considerable  deorct; 
of  heat,  for  they  are  always  most  voracious  and  numerous 
on  hot  dry  days.  These  (lies,  when  numerous,  will  almost 
make  a  horse  frantic.  Their  bite  feels  lik(;  a  fiery  cinder 
slowly  burnint^  throuLjh  the  skin,  but  fortunatt^ly  they  do 
not  cause  much  trouble  to  man,  for  they  are  led  by  instinct 
to  seek  the  rouijh  surfaces  of  animals  and  almost  invariably 
li_i,dit  on  the;  clothes  insteail  of  th(;  hau'-ior  face.  They 
have  a  most  blood-thirsty  and  cruel  ^  nemy  in  the  wasp, 
anil  if  it  were  not  for  tlu;  inexhaustible  supply  of  the  bi  '1- 
doos,  the  wasps  would  annihilate  tin;  species.  Nothinjj^ 
in  the  habits  of  insects  could  l)e  mor(;  intert^stintr  than  the 


1 

I   '    •; 

I 
i 


rrr 


!■ 


26 


The  Canadian  Rockies. 


strano^e  manner  in  which  the  wasps  set  out  deliberately  in 
pursuit  of  a  bull-tloo'  fly,  to  overtake  and  seize;  th(;  clumsy 
AJctim  in  mid  air.  Both  insects  fall  to  the  ground  with  a 
t(;rrihle  buzzing  and  much  circling  about  while  the  mad 
contest  goes  on.  Meanwhile  the  wasp  works  with  the 
rapidity  of  lightning,  and  with  its  sharp  powerful  jaws  dis- 
severs legs  and  wings,  which  fall  scattered  in  the  melee, 
till  the  bull-dog  is  rendered  helpless  and  immovable. 
Last  of  all,  the  wasp  cuts  off  the  head  of  its  victim,  then 
leaves  the  lifeless  and  limbless  body  in  order  to  continue 
the  chase. 

I  have  seen  a  wasp  thus  dismember  and  kill  one  of 
these  large  fhes  in  less  than  thirty  seconds.  They  seem 
to  perform  their  murderous  acts  out  of  pure  pleasure,  as 
they  do  not  linger  over  their  prey  after  the  victim  is  dead. 

The  water  of  Lake  Louise  is  too  cold  to  admit  of 
bathing  except  in  a  very  brief  manner.  The  temperature 
of  the  water  near  the  first  of  August  is  about  56". 

The  old  chalet,  built  in  rustic  fashion  with  unhewn 
logs,  was  placed  near  the  lake  shore  much  closer  than  the 
present  building.  One  day  in  1893,  when  every  one  was 
absent,  the  building  caught  fire  and  burned  to  the  ground. 
Remarkably  enough  the  forest  did  not  take  fire,  though 
some  of  the  trees  were  close  to  the  building. 

Usually  in  the  early  morning,  before  the  sun  has 
warmed  the  atmosphere  and  started  the  breezes  of  day- 
time into  motion,  the  lake  is  tranquil  and  its  surface 
resembles  a  great  mirror.  About  nine  o'clock,  the  first 
puffs  of  wind  begin  to  make  little  cat's-paws  at  the  far 


"^:H 


has 
day- 
rface 

\]  rst 
far 


Approach  of  a  Storm.  27 

end  of  the  lake,  which  widen  and  extend  until  finally  the 
whole  water  becomes  rippled.  A  gentle  breeze*  continues 
to  sweep  down  the  lake  from  the  snow  mountains  toward 
the  Bow  valley  all  day  long,  and  the  water  rarely  becomes 
smooth  till  after  sunset.  This  is  the  usual  order  of  events 
in  fair  weather,  a  condition  which  may  continue  for  several 
weeks  without  a  drop  of  rain. 

The  approach  and  progress  of  a  storm,  the  wonderful 
atmospheric  changes  attending  it,  and  the  ever  moving 
clouds  obscuring  the  mountain  tops  reveal  the  lake  in 
the  full  grandeur  of  its  surroundings.  An  approaching 
storm  is  first  announced  by  scattered  wisps  of  cirrus 
cloud,  which  move  slowly  and  steadily  from  the  west  in 
an  otherwise  blue  sky.  In  the  course  of  twenty-four 
hours  the  cirrus  clouds  have  become  so  thick  that  they 
often  resemble  a  thin  haze  far  above  the  highest  moun- 
tains. The  sun  with  paled  light  can  no  longer  pierce  this 
ever  thickening  hazy  veil.  The  wind  blows  soft  and  warm 
from  out  the  south  or  southwest,  and  generally  brings  up 
the  smoke  of  forest  fires  from  the  1  .it  ific  coast,  and  ren- 
ders the  atmosphere  still  more  obscure,  till  at  Nngth  the 
sun  appears  like  a  great  ball  of  brass  set  in  a  copp-r)  sky. 
The  trees  and  grass  appear  to  change  their  color  .uul 
assume  a  strange  vivid  shade  of  green  in  the  weird  light. 
Sometimes  light  feathery  ashes  are  wafted  over  the  high 
mountains  south  of  the  lake  and  settle  down  gently  like 
flakes  of  snow.  The  falling  barometer  announces  the 
coming  storm,  and  presently  another  layer  of  clouds,  the 
low-lying  cumulus,  form  just  above  the  highest  peaks  and 


r  .! 


M 

VW 


r 


/tT"*- 


MSi::iT-'      ii'iiiin-i 


28 


The  Canadian  Rockies. 


!l  I 


settle  gradually  lower  till  they  touch  the  mountain  tops. 
Rain  soon  follows,  the  clouds  settle  till  they  almost  rest 
on  the  water  of  the  lake,  and  the  wind  increases  in  violence. 

Sometimes  thunder-storms  of  considerable  fury  sweep 
through  the  valley  and  among  the  mountains,  one  after 
another  for  several  days.  A  violent  thunder-storm  at 
night  among  these  lofty  mountains  is  one  of  the  grandest 
phenomena  of  nature.  The  battling  of  the  elements,  the 
unceasing  roar  of  the  wind  in  the  forest,  and  the  crash  of 
thunder  redoubled  by  echoes  from  the  rocky  clififs, — all  con- 
spire to  fill  the  imagination  with  a  terrible  picture  of  the 
majesty  and  sublimity  of  nature.  From  the  lake  there 
comes  up  a  low,  hoarse  murmur,  not  the  roar  of  ocean 
surf,  but  the  lesser  voice  of  a  small  mountain  lake  lashed 
to  fury  and  beating  with  its  small  waves  on  a  rocky  shore. 
The  noise  of  the  forest,  the  sound  of  colliding  branches 
as  the  tall  trees  sway  to  and  fro  in  the  furious  wind,  and 
the  frequent  crack  and  crash  of  dead  forest  giants  over- 
come by  the  elements  form  the  dull  but  fearful  monotone, 
above  which  the  loud  rumble  of  thunder  rises  in  awful 
grandeur.     These  are  the  sounds  of  a  mountain  storm. 

The  bright  flashes  of  lightning  reveal  a  companion 
picture,  for  in  the  momentary  light  succeeded  by  absolute 
darkness  the  lake  is  revealed  covered  with  foamy  white 
caps.  The  forests  on  the  mountain  side  seem  to  yield  to 
the  blast  like  a  field  of  wheat  in  a  summer  breeze,  and  the 
circling  clouds  sweep  about  the  mountain  slopes  and  con- 
ceal all  but  their  bases. 

Should  the  storm  clear  away  during  the  daytime  one 


Cloud  Effects. 


29 


may  witness  <jrand  cloud  effects.  The  low-hanjring  masses 
of  clouds  left  behind  by  the  battlino^  elements  slow!)-  rise 
and  occasionally  reveal  small  areas  of  blue  sky  amonjf  the 
moving-  vapors.  Gentle  i)uffs  of  air  sweep  over  the  calm 
surface  of  th(!  water,  making  little  areas  of  ripples  here 
and  tliere,  only  to  be  succeeded  by  a  tranquil  calm,  as  if 
the  storm  spirit  were  sending  forth  his  dying  gasps  inter- 
mittently. While  the  air  is  thus  calm  below,  the  circling 
wisps  of  vapor  high  up  on  the  mountain,  rising  and  descend- 
ing, show  that  the  battle  between  the  sun  and  the  clouds  is 
still  ra^rintr.  From  above  the  saturated  forests,  the  rising 
vapors  condense  and  increase  in  size  till  at  length,  caught 
in  some  counter-current,  they  are  swept  away  or  carried 
downward,  while  the  dissolving  cloud  spreads  out  in  wisps 
and  streamers  till  suddenly  it  disappears  into  transparent 
air, — a  veritable  cloud  ghost.  At  length  the  mountain 
tops  appear  once  more,  white  in  a  light  covering  of  new 
snow,  and,  as  the  great  masses  of  cumulus  rise  and  disap- 
pear the  sky  appears  of  that  deep  blue-black  color  pecul- 
iar to  mountain  altitudes,  while  the  sun  shines  out  with 
dazzling  brilliancy  "hrough  the  clear  atmosphere. 

The  last  visit  I  made  to  Lake-  Louise  was  toward  the 
middle  of  October,  1895.  A  very  snowy,  disagreeable 
September  had  been  followed  by  a  long  period  of  milder 
weather  with  much  bright  sunshine.  The  new  snow, 
which  had  been  quite  deep  near  the  lake,  had  altogether 
disappeared  except  high  up  on  the  mountain  side.  It 
was  the  true  Indian  summer,  a  season  with  a  certain  mel- 
low  charm   peculiar  to   it   alone,    characterized   by    clea 


,  i  ) 


< 


I        r 


I       •,! 


i/- 


30 


The  Canadian  Rockies. 


sunny  weather,  a  cahn  atmosphere,  a  low,  ridini^r  sun,  and 
short  days.  Most  of  the  flowers  were  withered.  The 
deciduous  bushes,  latel)-  brilliant  from  frost,  were  rap- 
idly losin_t(  their  foliage,  and  the  larches  were  decked  in 
pale  yellow,  far  up  near  the  tree  line.  However,  the 
greater  part  of  the  vegetation  is  evergreen,  and  the 
spruces,  balsams,  and  pines,  the  heaths,  ericaceous  plants, 
and  the  mosses  contrive  to  set  winter  at  nought  by  wear- 
ing the  garb  of  a  perpetual  summer  in  a  region  where 
snow  covers  the  ground  three  fourths  of  the  year. 

I  could  not  resist  the  temptation  as  the  morning  train 
rolled  up  to  the  station  at  Laggan  to  get  off  for  the  day 
and  make  another  visit  to  the  lake.  The  sunrise  had 
been  unusually  brilliant  and  there  was  every  promise  of 
a  fine  day.  There  is  rarely  much  color  at  sunrise  or  sun- 
set in  the  mountains.  The  dry  clear  atmosphe'"e  has 
little  power  to  break  up  the  white  light  into  rainbow 
colors  and  give  the  brilliancy  of  coloring  to  be  seen  near 
the  sea-coast  or  in  the  lowlands.  The  tints  are  like  the 
air  itself — pure,  cold,  and  clear.  With  more  truth  they 
might  be  called  delicate  shades  or  color  suggestions. 
They  recall  those  exquisite  but  faint  hues  seen  in  topaz 
or  tourmaline  crystals,  or  transparent  quartz  crystals, 
wherein  the  minutest  trace  of  some  foreign  mineral  has 
developed  rare  spectrum  colors  and  imprisoned  them 
forever.  Oftimes  the  snow  of  the  mountain  tops  is  thus 
tinted  a  bright  clear  pink,  beautifully  contrasted  against 
the  intensely  blue  sky.  I  have  never  seen  a  deep  red  on 
the  mountains  or  clouds  at  these  altitudes.     The  effect 


The  Lake  in  ( )ct()l)cr. 


31 


of  forest-fin;  sinoki;  is  to  '/wt:  imidcly  colors:  the  sun 
resembles  a  brazen  i^Iobc,  and  the  sky  becomes  coppery 
in  appearance. 

After  lireakfast  al  the  station  house,  I  set  off  over  the 
hard  frozen  road  toward  th(.'  lake.  I  carried  my  camera 
and  luncheon  on  my  back,  my  only  companion  beinjr  a 
small  dog  which  appeared  ready  for  exercise.  The  air 
was  frosty  and  cold  ;  the  low-riding  sun  had  not  as  yet 
struck  into  the  forest  trees  and  removed  the  rime  from 
the  moss  and  leaves  on  the  ground. 

In  somewhat  less  than  an  hour,  I  arrived  at  the  lake. 
All  was  deserted  ;  the  chalet  closed,  the  keeper  gone, 
and  the  tents 
taken  down. 
E  V  e  n  the 
boats,  which 
usually  rest- 
ed near  the 
shore,  had 
b  e  e  n  p  u  t 
under  cover. 
The  cold  air 
was  perfectly 
calm,  antl  my 

vapory  breath  ^^Qi9^'^^^<^^JB[^^^^^^^^!'9^i^' 

rose     straight 

,  ,,\,  LAKE  LOUISE  LOOKING  TOWARD  CHALET. 

upwards.    I  he 

mirror  surface  of  the  water  was  disturbed  by  some  wild 

fowl — black  ducks  and  divers — whicii  swarm  on  the  lake 


'  ^^n^^^ 


■iiS'-.S!^ 


I:  . 


1 

i 

i 

( 

t 

1 
1 

r 

< 


i 


I 


jTT 


mm 


32 


The  Canadian  Rockies. 


at  tliis  season.  Their  splashings,  and  the  harsh  cries  of 
the  divers  came  faintly  over  the  water.  It  seemed 
strange  that  these  familiar  haunts  could  appear  so  fear- 
fully wild  and  lonely  merely  because  man  had  resij;ned 
his  claim  to  the  place  and  nature  now  ruled  alone.  All 
at  once  a  wild  unearthly  wail  from  across  the  water, 
the  cry  of  a  loon,  one  of  the  most  melancholy  of  all 
sounds,  startled  me,  and  gave  warning  that  activity  alone 
could  counteract  the  effect  of  the  imagination. 

Accordingly  I  walked  down  the  right  shore  of  the  lake 
with  the  intention  of  going  several  miles  u[)  the  valley  and 
taking  some  photographs  of  Mount  Lefroy.  The  flat 
bushy  meadows  near  the  upper  end  of  the  lake  were 
cold,  and  all  the  plants  and  reedy  grass  were  white  with 
the  morning  frost.  The  towering  cliffs  and  castle-Uke 
battlements  of  the  mountains  on  the  south  side  of  the 
valley  shut  out  the  sun,  and  promised  to  prevent  its 
genial  rays  from  warming  this  spot  till  late  in  the  after- 
noon, if  at  all,  for  a  period  of  several  months.  In  the 
frozen  ground,  as  I  followed  the  trail,  I  saw  the  tracks 
of  a  bear,  made  probably  the  day  before.  Bruin  had  gone 
up  the  valley  somewhere  and  had  not  returned  as  yet,  so 
there  was  a  possibility  of  making  his  acquaintance. 

I  was  well  repaid  for  my  visit  this  day,  as  a  magnificent 
avalanche  fell  from  Mount  Lefroy.  Mount  Lefroy  is  a 
rock  mountain  rising  in  vertical  cliffs  from  between  two 
branches  of  a  glacier  which  sweep  round  its  base.  A 
hanging  glacier  rests  on  the  highest  slope  of  the  moun- 
tain, and,  ascending  some  distance,  forms  a  vertical  face  of 


'& 

M 


A  Magnificent  Avalanche. 


33 


i 


I 


I 


ic(!  nearly  three  huiulred  feet  thick  at  the  top  of  a  yreat 
precipice.  The  hij^hest  rid_>i[e  of  the  mountain  is  covcri'd 
with  an  overhansj^inj^"  cornic(.'  of  snow,  which  the  storm 
winds  from  ih(^  W(;st  have  built  out  till  it  appears  to  n^ach 
full  one  hundred  feet  over  the  (jrjacier  below.  At  times, 
masses  of  ice  break  off  from  the  hangins^  j^lacier  and  fall 
with  thunderinii^  crashes  to  the  valley  far  below. 

I  was  standint:^  at  a  point  some  two  miles  distant 
lookin^r  at  this  imposinji^  mountain,  when  from  the  viTtical 
ice  wall  a  great  fragment  of  the  glacier,  some  three  hun- 
dred feet  thick  and  several  times  as  long,  broke  away,  and. 
slowly  turning  in  mid-air,  began  to  fall  through  the  airy 
abyss.  In  a  few  seconds,  amid  continued  siU.nce,  for  the 
sound  had  not  yet  reached  me,  the  great  mass  struck  a 
projecting  ledge  of  rock  after  a  fall  of  some  half  thousand 
feet,  and  at  the  shock,  as  though  by  some  inward  explosion, 
the  block  was  shivered  into  thousands  of  smaller  fragments 
and  clouds  of  white  powdery  ice.  Simultaneously  came 
the  first  thunder  of  the  avalanche.  The  larger  pieces  led 
the  way,  some  whirling  around  in  mid-air,  others  gliding 
downward  like  meteors  with  long  trains  of  snowy  ice  dust 
trailing  behind.  The  finer  powdered  debris  followed  after, 
in  a  long  succession  of  white  streamers  and  curtains  re- 
sembling cascades  and  waterfalls.  The  loud  crash  at  the 
first  great  shock  now  developed  into  a  prolonged  thimder 
wherein  were  countless  lesser  sounds  of  the  smaller  pieces 
of  ice.  It  was  like  the  sound  of  a  great  battle  in  which  the 
sharp  crack  of  rifles  mingles  with  the  roar  of  artillery. 
Leaping  from  ledge  to  ledge  with  ever  increasing  velocity, 


I 


i    i 


I' 


'ft! 


'  i 


'l-^MHIH  ■  ■■■■ 


34 


The  Canadian  Rockies. 


V        I 


the  hirger  fratjmcnts  at  lentjth  reached  the  bottom  of  the 
precipice,  whiUt  now  a  \o\v^  white  train  extended  nearly 
the  whole  heitj^ht  of  the  jj^rantl  mountain  wall  2500  feet 
from  hase  to  top. 

Imagine  a  precipice  sixteen  times  higher  than  Niagara, 
nearly  perpendicular,  and  built  out  of  hard  llinty  santlstone. 
At  the  top  of  this  giant  wall,  picture  a  great  glacier  with 
blue  ice  three  hundred  fec.-t  thick,  crevassed  and  rent  into 
a  thousand  yawning  caverns,  and  crowding  downwards, 
ever  threatening  to  launch  masses  of  ice  large  as  great 
buildings  into  the  valley  below.  Such  avalanches  are 
among  the  most  sublime  and  thrilling  spectacles  that 
nature  affords.  The  eye  alone  is  incapable  of  appreciating 
the  vast  scale  of  them.  The  long  period  of  silence  at  first 
and  the  thunder  of  the  falling  ice  reverberated  among  the 
mountain-walls  produce  a  better  impression  of  the  distance 
and  magnitude. 

I  arrived  at  the  lower  end  of  the  lake  toward  one 
o'clock.  The  lake  was  only  disturbed  in  one  long  narrow 
strip  toward  the  middle  by  a  gentle  breeze  while  all  the 
rest  was  perfectly  calm.  This  was  one  of  those  rare  days 
of  which  each  year  only  affords  two  or  three,  when  the 
lake  is  calm  at  midday  under  a  clear  sky.  The  mirror 
surface  of  the  water  presented  an  inverted  image  of  the 
mountains,  the  trees  on  the  shore,  and  the  blue  sky.  The 
true  water  surface  and  the  sunken  logs  on  the  bottom  of 
the  lake  joined  with  the  reflected  objects  in  forming  a 
puzzling  composite  picture. 

The  brilliant  sun  had  taken  away  the  chill  of  morning 


rf# 


Approach in<4'  Winter. 


35 


and  coaxcid  forth  a  few  forest  birds,  hiii  tlu-rc  wi-rc  no  llow- 
i:rs  or  Ijuttcrllics  to  recall  real  sumiiicr.  it  seemed  as 
thouj^h  this  were  the  last  expirinj^^  effort  ol  aiitiinin  before; 
the  cold  of  winter  should  descend  into  the  valU  y  and  with 
its  rini4'(-'r  on  the  lips  of  nature  cover  the  landscape  with  a 
deep  mantle  of  snow  anil  bind  the  lake  in  a  riijid  layer  of 
ice.  I'lvi'ii  at  this  warmest  |)eriod  of  the  ilay  the  -.un's  rays 
seemed  inelTicient  to  ht;at  the  atmos|)iiere,  while  from  the 
cold  shadows  of  the  forest  came  a  warning  that  winter  was 
lurking  near  at  hand,  soon  to  swi.'cp  down  and  I'ule  unin- 
terrupted for  a  period  of  nine  long  months. 


iH 


V 


i 


J  i 


f'^., 


'^l 


CHAPTKR  III. 


Surroiini/i/igs  of  tlic  l.akc — J'oiitioii  of  Mounlains  hik/  I'a/Ieys —  77ii' 
S/'riici'  (iH(/  Jhihain  Firs — The  J.y all's  Larch  —  Alpine  /'loicrrs — 7'he 
7'rtiil  tiW(>//x  the  Cliffs — 'The  liiehite,  a  Monument  of  the  J'list — I.ahe 
.Ix'/ies,  ti  Lake  of  Solitude — Summit  oj  the  LJeehive — Lake  Louise  in  the 
Distant  J'uture. 

AMONG  tilt:  mountains  on  all  sides  of  Lake  Louise 
are  many  scenes  of  unusual  beauty  and  i^randeur. 
While  the  lake  itself  must  be  considered  the 
local  point  of  this  region,  and  is  indeed  wonderfully 
attractive  by  reason  of  its  rare  settinj^,  the  encirclinj^ 
mountains  are  so  roujj^h  and  hij^h,  the  valleys  separatinuf 
them  so  deep  and  gloomy,  yet  withal  so  beautiful,  that 
the  scenery  ap|)roaches  perfection.  The  forces  of  nature 
have  here  wroui^jht  to  their  utmost  and  thrown  together 
in  apparently  wild  ccmfusion  some  of  the  highest  moun- 
tains in  Canada  anu  carved  out  gloomy  gorge  and  rocky 
precipice  till  the  eye  becomes  lost  in  the  complexity  of  it 
all.  Lakes  and  waterfalls  reveal  themselves  among  the 
rich  dark  forests  of  the  valleys,  and  afford  beautiful  fore- 
grounds to  the  distant  snov;  mountains  which  seem  to 
tower  ever  hiirher  as  one  ascends. 

A  brief  description  of  the  topography  in  the  vicinity  of 
Lake  Louise  would  be  now  in  place.     Southwestvvard  from 


I 


1 


The  Suniniil  Range. 


J/ 


tin:  lake  is  a  ranj^t-  of  vci*)'  h\^h  ami  rujLjji^rd  mountains 
coxcrcd  with  snow  and  j^lacicrs.  This  ranj^i-  is  tlu'  crest 
of  the  contint-nt  of  North  Ani(  rica,  in  fact  the  jt^rcat 
watt  i-shfd  which  (Hvidcs  the  Athmtic  and  Pacitic  ch-ain- 
a^c.  In  this  ran^c  arc  many  jxaks  ovt-r  ii.ood  Icct 
above  sea  k'Vcl,  an  altitiKk:  which  is  near  the  t^rt  atcst 
that  the  Kock)  Mountains  attain  ni  this  hitituiU'.  While 
farther  south  in  Colorado  there  are  scones  of  mountains 
i.^.ooc)  or  14,000  feet  hi_i,di,  it  must  he  remembered  that 
no  mountains  in  Catiada  between  the  International 
l)ountlary  and  the  railroad  have  )et  been  discovered  that 
reach  I  2,000  feet.  N(.'vc:rtheless,  these  mountains  of  lesser 
altitude  are  far  more  impressive  and  apparently  much 
hij^dier  because  of  their  steep  sides  and  e.xtensive  fields  of 
perpetual  snow. 

This  ^reat  ran<:;^e,  forminjj^  the  continental  water-shed 
runs  parallel  to  the  jjjeneral  trend  of  the  Rocky  Mountains 
of  Canada,  or  about  northwest  and  southeast.  Several 
spur  ranges  branch  off  at  ri^ht  angles  from  the  central 
mass  and  run  north(;ast  fi\e  or  six  miles.  Between  these 
spur  nuit^es  are  short  valleys  which  all  tMiter  into  the  w  ide 
valley  of  the  How.  Lake  Louise  occupies  one  of  these 
lesser  valleys. 

The  several  lateral  valleys  are  all  comparatively  near 
Lake  Louise  and  differ  remarkably  in  the  character  of  the 
scenery  and  vegetation.  One  is  beautiful  and  richly  cov- 
ered with  forests  ;  another  desolate  and  fearfully  wild.  The 
valley  of  Lake  Louise  contains  in  all  three  lakes,  of  which 
the  smallest  is  but  a  mere  pool,  some  seventy-five  yards 
across. 


< 


.  .        I; 


I 


38 


The  Canadian  Rockies. 


t    I 


h^r 


O 


Far  up  on  the  mountain  side  to  the  north  of  Lake 
Louise  two  little  lakes  were  discovered  many  years  ago. 
They  are  now  to  the  visitor  who  spends  but  one  day, 
almost  the  chief  point  of  interest  in  this  region.  The  trail 
thither  leads  into  the  dense  forest  from  near  the  chalet 
and  proceeds  forthwith  to  indicate  its  nature  by  rising 
steadily  and  constantly.  The  tall  coniferous  trees  cast  a 
deep  cool  shade  even  on  a  warm  da)'.  So  closely  do  the 
trees  grow  one  to  another  that  the  climber  is  entirely 
shut  out  from  the  world  of  mountains  and  surrounded  by 
a  primeval  forest  as  he  follows  the  winding  path.  Among 
the  forest  giants  there  are  two  principal  trees,  the  spruce 
and  the  l)alsam  fir.  Each  is  very  tall  and  slender  and  at 
a  distance  the  appearance  of  the  tw^o  trees  is  closely  simi- 
lar. Tii(^  spruce  is  the  chari'cteristic  tree  of  the  Rockies 
and  is  found  everywhere.  It  reaches  a  height  of  75  or 
100  feet  in  a  single  tapering  bole,  closely  beset  with  small 
short  branches  bent  slightly  downward,  as  though  better 
to  withstand  the  bi;rden  of  snow  in  winter.  In  open 
places  the  lower  branches  spread  out  and  touch  the 
ground,  but  in  forests  they  die  and  leave  a  free  passage 
between  the  trees.  The  balsam  tree  is  quite  similar  but 
may  be  discerned  by  its  smoother  bark  which  is  raided 
from  uiidern(;ath  by  countless  blisters  each  containing  a. 
drop  of  trans[xirent  balsam.  Here  and  there  are  a  few 
tall  pines  rivalling  the  spruces  .uid  tirs  in  height  but 
affording  a  strong  contrast  to  tlvni  in  their  scattered 
branches  and  larger  needles. 

The  ground  is  covered  with  underbrush  tangled   in  a 


1 


1 


1 

I 


/^/<:^/^///  /,.//vr  m/^/  Mirror  Lake 


P 


Jl      ^1 


/ 


f   .  ■     ■"»  i 


■<i 


^t; 


IP'- 


1  i 


i 


ir^' 


.'V      i 


»       ■ 


Ml       ' 


nan 


The  LvalTs  Larch. 


39 


dense  luxuriance  of  vegetable  life  and  partly  concealing 
th(;  ancient  trunks  of  idWv.n  trees  long  since  covered  with 
moss  and  now  slowly  decaying  into  a  red  vegetable  mold. 

At  length,  after  half  an  hour  of  constant  climbing,  a 
certain  indefinable  change  takes  place  in  the  forest.  The 
air  is  cooler,  the  trees  grow  wider  apart,  and  the  view  is 
extended  through  long  vistas  of  forest  trees.  Presently 
a  new  species  of  tree,  like  our  Eastern  tamarack,  makes  its 
appearance.  It  is  the  Lyall's  larch,  a  tree  that  endures 
the  rigors  of  a  subalpine  climat<'  better  than  the  spruces 
and  balsam  iirs,  so  that  it  soon  becomes  to  the  climber 
among  these  mountains  an  almost  certain  indication  of 
proximity  to  the  tree-line. 

It  is  not  far  from  the  truth  to  say  that  the  Lyall's 
larch  is  the  most  characteristic  tree  of  the  Canadian 
Rockies.  It  is  not  found  in  the  Selkirk  Range  just  west 
of  the  main  range,  and  while  it  has  indeed  been  found  as 
far  south  as  the  International  boundary,  it  has  not  been 
discov(!red  in  the  Peaces  River  valley  to  the  north.  Re- 
stricted in  latitude,  it  grows  on  the  main  ranee  of  the 
Rockies  only  at  a  great  altitude.  Here  on  the  border- 
land between  the  vegetable  and  mineral  kingdoms  it 
forms  a  narrow  fringe  at  the  tree-line  and  in  autumn  its 
needles  turn  bright  yellow  and  mark  a  conspicuous  band 
around  all  the  cliffs  and  mountain  slopes  at  about  7000  feet 
above  sea  level.  Its  soft  needles,  gathered  in  scattered 
fascicles,  are  set  along  the  rough  and  tortuous  branches, 
affording  a  scanty  shade  but  permitting  of  charming 
glimpses  of  distant  mountains,  clouds,  and  sky  among  its 


( 


'i 


40 


The  Canadian  Rockies. 


^rdy  branches  and  litjjlu-^'rcen  foliage.  It  seems  incapable 
of  sending  u[)  a  tall  slender  sten  iit  branches  out  irregu- 
larly and  presents  an  infinite  va  :ty  of  forms.  Possibly 
for  this  reason  the  larch  cannot  v..)ntest  with  the  slender 
spruces  antl  firs  of  the  valley,  where  it  would  be  crowded 
out  of  light  and  sun  among  its  taller  rivals. 

Presently  the  trail  leads  from  out  the  forest  and 
crosses  an  o[)en  slope  where  some  )ears  ago  a  great  snow- 
slide  swept  down  and  stripped  the  trees  from  the  moun- 
tain side.  Here,  1200  feet  above  Lake  Louise,  the  air 
feels  sensibly  cooler  and  indicates  an  Alpine  climate. 
The  mountains  now  reveal  themselves  in 
far  grander  proportions  than  from  below,  as 
they  burst  sudd(;nly  on  the  view.  Nature 
has  already  made  compensation  for  the  de- 
stroyed forest  by  i-lothing  this  slope  with  a 
profusion  of  wild  flf)wers,  though  much 
different  in  character  from  those  at  Lake 
Louise.  Alpine  plants  and 
^  several   varieties  of  heather, 

in  varying  shades  of  red  or 
pink  and  even  white,  cover  the 
ground  with  their  elegant  coloring. 
One  form  of  heath  resembles  al- 
most perfectly  the  tru(;  heather  of  Scotland,  and  b)-  its 
abundance  recalls  the  rolling  hills  and  flowery  highlands 
of  that  historic  land.  The  retreating  snow-banks  of  June 
and  July  are  closely  followed  by  the  advancing  column  of 
mountain  flowers  which  must  needs  blossom,  bear  fruit, 


fi 


A  Monument  of  the  Past. 


41 


I,  ^ 


and  die  in  the  short  siunmer  of  two  months  duration. 
One  may  thus  often  find  phuits  in  full  blossom  vviuiin  a 
yard  of  some  retreatinLj  snow-drift. 

On  reaching,''  the  farther  side  of  the  bare  track  of  the 
avalanche,  the  trail  begins  to  lead  along  the  face  of  craggy 
cliffs  like  some  llama  path  of  the  Andes.  The  mossy 
ledges  are  in  some  places  damp  and  glistening  with 
trickling  springs,  where  the  climber  may  quench  his  thirst 
with  the  purest  and  coldest  water.  Wherever  thert;  is 
the  slightest  possible  foothold  the  trees  ha\e  established 
themselves,  sometimes  on  the  very  verge  of  the  precipice 
so  that  their  si^reading  branches  lean  out  over  the  airy 
abyss  while  their  bart;  roots  are  flattened  in  the  joints 
and  fractures  of  the  cliff  or  knit  around  the  rocky  projec- 
tions like  writhing  serpents. 

More  than  four  hundred  feet  below  is  a  small  circular 
pond  of  clear  water,  blue  and  brilliant  like  a  sapphire  crys- 
tal. Its  calm  surface,  rarely  disturbed  by  mountain  breezes, 
reflects  the  surrounding  trees  and  rocks  sharp  and  distinct 
as  it  nestles  in  peace  at  the  very  base  of  a  great  rock 
tower — the  Beehive.  Carved  out  from  flinty  sandstone, 
this  tapering  cone,  if  such  a  thing  there  be,  witii  horizon- 
tal strata  clearly  marked  resembles  indeed  a  giant  bee- 
hive. Round  its  base  are  green  forests  and  its  suniiiiit  is 
adorned  by  larches,  while  between  are  the  smooth  preci- 
pices of  its  sides  too  steep  for  any  tree  or  clinging  plant. 
What  suggestions  may  not  this  ancient  pile  afford  ! 
Antiquity  is  of  man  ;  but  these  cliffs  partake  more  of  the 
eternal — existing  forever.      Their  nearly  horizontal  strata 


! 


!  1 


( 


' .  JSSgf^ 


ll< 


42 


The  Canadian  Rockies. 


\n 


were  formed  in  the  Cambrian  Ajj^e,  which  ^eolo^ists  tell 
us  was  fifty  or  sixty  millions  of  years  iv^o.  i'ar  back  in 
those  dim  a^es  when  the  sea  swarmed  with  only  the  lower 
forms  of  life,  the  tine  sand  was  slowly  and  constantly  set- 
tlinjr  to  the  bottom  of  the  ocean  and  buildinj^  up  vast 
deposits  which  now  are  represented  by  the  strata  of  this 
mountain.  .Solidified  and  made;  into  flint)-  rock,  after  the 
lapse  of  ages  these  deposits  were  lifted  above  the  ocean 
level  by  the  irresistible  crushing  force  of  the  contracting 
earth  crust.  Rain  and  frost  and  moving  ice  have  sculp- 
tured out  from  this  vast  block  monuments  of  varied  form 
and  aspect  which  we  call  mountains. 

Just  to  one  sitK;  of  tiie  Beehive  a  graceful  waterfall 
dashes  over  a  series  of  ledges  and  in  many  a  leap  and 
cascade  finds  its  way  into  Mirror  Lake.  This  stream 
flows  out  from  Lake  y\gnes,  whither  the  trail  leads  b\'  a 
short  steep  descent  through  the  forest.  Lake  Agnes  is  a 
wild  mountain  tarn  imprisoned  between  gloomy  cliffs,  bare 
and  cheerless.  Destitute  of  trees  and  nearly  unrelieved  by 
any  vegetation  whatsoever,  these  mountain  walls  present  a 
stern  monotony  of  color.  The  lake,  however,  affords  one 
view  that  is  more  pleasant.  One  should  walk  down  the 
right  shore  a  few  hundred  feet  and  look  to  the  north. 
Here  the  shores  formed  of  large  angular  blocks  of  stone 
are  pleasantly  contrasted  with  the  fringe  of  trees  in  the 
distance. 

The  solitary  visitor  to  the  lake  is  soon  oppressed  with 
a  terrible  sensation  of  utter  loneliness.  Everything  in 
the  surroundings  is  gloomy  and  silent  save  for  the  sound 


iMke  Agnes. 

In  early  July,  /6'pj. 


l\ 


■i 


T 


ll 


< 


f 


ri 


I  w  \ 


A  Lake  of  Soliliidc. 


43 


of  a  trickliny;  rivuli't  which  falls  over  sonu-  rocky  Icdj^cs  oil 
the  riLjht  of  liu:  lake.  Tlu;  faint  paltcriiij;  soiiiul  is  cclioctl 
hack  hy  the  opposite  cliffs  ami  si-c  ns  to  till  the  air  with  a 
murimir  so  faint,  and  yet  so  distinct,  thai  it  suj^^ests  sonic- 
thin^'  sU[K:rnatural.  The  occasional  shrill  whistle  of  a 
marmot  breaks  the  silence  in  a  startlini;'  and  sudden  man- 
ner. A  visitor  to  this  lake  once  cut  short  his  stay  most 
unexpectedly  and  hastened  hack  to  tin;  chalet  upon  hear- 
in|^  ont."  of  these  loud  whistle*;  which  lu*  thoui^dit  was  tlu' 
sij^jnal  of  bandits  or  Indians  who  were  about  to  attack 
him. 

Lake  Au^nes  is  a  narrow  sheet  of  water  said  it^  be  un- 
fathomable, as  ind(?ed  is  the  case  with  all  lak(;s  before  they 
are  sound(!d.  It  is  about  one  third  of  a  mile  in  lenL,fth 
and  occupies  a  typical  rock  basin,  a  kind  of  formation  that 
has  been  the  themi;  of  heated  discussion  among' j^^eolonrists. 
riit;  water  is  coKl,  of  a  _L,n-een  color,  and  so  pellucid  that 
the  rouLjh  rocky  bottom  may  b^  svx:n  at  t,n-e:it  dttpths. 
The  lake  is  most  beautiful  in  earl)-  July  before  the  snow- 
banks around  its  edge  have  disapi^eared.  V\\cn  tiie  double 
picture,  made  by  the  irregular  patches  of  snow  on  the  bare 
rocks  and  their  reflected  image  in  the  water,  gives  iiKJSt 
artistic  effects. 

From  the  lake  shore  one  may  ascend  the  Beehive  in 
about  a  (juarter  ot  an  hour.  The  [jitch  is  very  ste<'|j  but 
the  ascent  is  easy  and  exhilarating,  for  the  outcro[)ping 
ledges  of  sandstone  seem  to  afford  a  natural  staircase, 
though  with  irregular  steps.  Exc-ywhere  are  bushes  and 
smaller  woody  plants  of  various  heaths,  the  tough  strong 


( 


*'  1^'  ir 

I  -'in 


H 


The  Canadian  Rockies. 


brandies  of  wliich,  g-raspeil  in  the  hand,  serve  to  assist  tlie 
chniber,  wliile  occasional  tr(,'(,'s  with  roots  Ioo|)e(l  and  knot- 
ted o\ci  th(!  rocks  still  further  facilitate.'  th(;  ascent. 

ArrActl  on  tin-  llat  suinniit,  the  climber  is  rewarded  for 
his  toil.  ()nc  tinds  himself  in  a  lii^ht  i^^rove  of  the  charac- 
teristir  Lyall's  larch,  whiU'  lenlcrneath  the  trec^s,  various 
ericaceous  plants  suL;i^est  the  Alpini;  climate  of  the-  place. 

Though  the  climber  ma)'  come  here  unattended  by 
frientls,  he  never  feels  the  loneliness  as  at  l.ake  Aj^nes. 
There;  the  j^l(x)ni\-  mountains  antl  dark  cliffs  seem  to  sur- 
rountl  one  and  threaten  some  unseen  da.n^er,  but  here  the 
broader  prospect  of  mounta.ins  antl  the  brillianc\-  ol  the 
lij^ht  afford  most  excelle-nt  compan\'.  1  have  visited  this 
little  upland  park  V(;ry  main'  times,  sometimes  with  friends, 
sometimes  with  the  occasional  visitors  to  Lake;  Louise, 
and  often  alone.       Ihe  temptation  to  select  a  soft  heathery 


seat  under  a  Ime  larch  tret;  an 


d  ad  I 


mire  the  scener)'  is  irre- 


sistible. ()ne  may  remain  here  for  hours  in  silent  con- 
templation, till  at  length  the  rumble  of  an  avalanche  from 
the;  cliffs  <>'"  Mount  Lefroy  awakens  one  from  reverie. 

Tlu;  a.dtude  is  about  y;^^o  feet  above  sea  le\-el  and 
ill  i^eneral  this  is  far  above  the  tret^  line,  aiul  it  is  oidy 
that  this  place  is  unusually  favorable  to  tree  j^rowth  that 
such  a  line  litth;  ijrovt;  of  larches  exists  here.      Nevertlu;- 


less, 


th 


(;  sunimi 


r  is  verv  brief — onlv  half  as  \on\s  as  at  Lake 


L 


ouise, 


I  TOO    feet    below. 


o 


TIk;    retn-atin;;-    snowd)anks 
f    winter   disap[)ear    toward    the    end    of    luly  aiul    new 


)ft 


snow  olten  covers 


tht 


'Touiul    l)\-  tile   mitklle   o 


f   Sept 


em- 


ber.     H 


ow   cou 


Id   we   expect    it    to   be   otherwise  at  this 


Summit  of  the  I^)ccliivc. 


45 


!|i 


irreat  heii^ht  and  in  the  latitude  of  Southern  Lahrador  ? 
i)u  th(;  hottest  days,  when  down  in  the  valley  of  the  iiow 
the  th(;rniomet(;r  may  reach  eisj^hty  dei^^rees  or  more,  the 
sun  is  here  never  oppressivel)'  hot,  but  rather  i^eniully 
warm,  while  the  air  is  crisp  antl  cool.  ShouUl  a  storm 
[>ass  (  v(;r  and  dnMich  the  lower  valleys  with  rain,  th(-  air 
would  he  full  of  hai!  or  sno'v'  it  this  altitude.  Th*;  view 
is  too  iji'rand  to  (h'scribe,  for  whihj  tlK,'n;  is  a  more  exl(;n- 
sive  prospect  than  at  Lak(;  Louise  the  mountains  ap|)ear 
to  rise  far  iii_Ljher  than  llu;\-  do  at  that  lev(*l.  file 
valleys  are  deep  as  the  mountains  hitrh,  and  in  fact  this 
altitude  is  the  level  of  maximum  j^^randeur.  The  often 
extolled  glories  of  high  mountain  scenery  is  mucli  oxc-r- 
stat<Hl  by  climbers.  What  they  gain  in  extent  they  lose 
in  intent.  The  widened  horizon  and  countless  arra\'  of 
distant  peaks  are  enjoyed  at  the  expense  of  a  much 
decreaseil  interest  in  tlie  details  of  the  scemt.  In  my 
opinion  one  obtains  in  general  the  l)est  view  in  the 
Canadian  Rockies  at  the  tre-c;  line  or  slightly  below. 
Nevertheless  every     ne  to  his  own  taste. 

The  mcjf.t  thrilling  (^xpericmci-  to  be  had  on  the 
summit  of  the  Beehive  is  to  stand  at  the  verge  of  the 
precipice  on  the  east  and  north  siih^s.  One  should 
approach  cautiously,  preferably  on  hands  and  knees,  ev«;n 
if  dizziness  is  unknown  to  the  climb(.'r,  for  from  the  very 
edge  the  cliff  drops  sheer  more  than  600  feet.  .A  stone 
may  be  tossed  from  this  place  into  tiie  placid  waters  of 
Mirror    Lake,   where   after  a  lonij    lli'ht   of   720   feet,   its 


i     ■ 


I' 


( 


journeys  end  is  anno 


un 


ced  by 


a  ring  of  ripples  b'.r  below. 


II  r 


46 


The  Canadian  Rockies. 


Lake  Louise  appears  like  a  lon^r  milky-green  sheet  of 
water,  witii  none  of  that  purity  which  appears  nearer  at 
hand.      Tile  stream   from   the   glacier  has  formed   a  fan- 


slia| 


)CCl 


delt; 


1,  and  Its  nuiddv  current  mav  be  seen  (^xtenci- 


d 


ing  far  out  into  the  lake,  polluting  its  crystal  w;uer  anc 
helping  to  till  its  basin  with  s.uul  and  gravel  till  in  the 
course  of  ages  a  flat  meadow  only  will  mark  tlu;  place  of 
an  ancient  lake. 


Ther 


level 


;ad( 


d 


re  even  now  man] 
tracts  in  tliese  mountains  w^hich  mark  the  filled-up  bed  of 
some  old  lake.  These  places  are  called  "  muskegs,"  and 
though  they  an;  usually  safe  to  traverse,  occasionally  the 
whole  surface  trembles  like  a  bowl  of  jelly  and  quakes 
under  th(;  tread  of  men  and  horses.  In  such  places  let 
th(;  traveller  beware  the  treacherous  nature  of  these 
sloughs,  for  on  many  an  occasion  horses  have;  been  sud- 
denly engulfeil  by  breaking  through  the  surface,  below 
which  (ii'cp  'i'-.:ter  or  ooz)'  mutl  offers  no  foothold  to  the 
struggling  animal. 

At  the  present  rate  of  fillin"-,  however,  the  deep  basin 
of  Lake  Louise  will  re(|uire  a  ngth  of  time  to  become 
obliterated  that  is  measured  by  thousands  of  years  rather 
than  by  ccuturies, — a  conception  that  should  relieve  our 
anxiet)  in  some  measure. 


I 


I   .i  ■■ 


1    . 


CHAPTER    I\'. 

0>x<i/iiz!fix  ii  Party  for  tlie  Moiiutaiiis—  Our  Piiiiis  Jor  I  lie  Siniuiicr — 
Williaiii  '/''a'iii  (I mi  'Join  Chiiiuiin — A'a(itrt\  JIabits,  and  Dress  oj  t/ic 
Sloncy  Iihlians — An  Excursion  on  tlie  Giacicr —  Tlic  Surface  Dciris  and 
its  Origin — Snoto  Line — Ascent  of  the  Couloir — A  Terrildc  Accident — 
Gating  Do7C'n — ////  Ex/iau  sting  Return  for  Aid — Hasty  Organization  of 
a  A'eseue  Party — Cold  and  Miserable  Wait  on  the  Glacier— Unpleasant 
Surmises — "  /   'J'liink  You  Die" — A  J'ortunate  I'erndnation. 

PREVIOUS  to  tiic  summer  of  i  S94  my  rxpericnccs 
in  the  Canadian  Rockies  had  made  me  acquainted 
with  but  httl(  more  of  their  general  features 
and  scenery  than  lias  heen  already  described.  This 
was  sufficient,  however,  to  prove  that  a  most  delightful 
summer  could  be  spent  among  these  mountains  if  a  party 
of  young  men  were  organized  with  some  defmite  object  in 
view  to  hokl  the  i)art\-  tosifether.  Several  of  us  accord- 
ingly  iissembled  at  one  of  our  eastern  colleges  and  dis- 
cussed plans  for  the  summer.  Four  men  were  persuaded 
to  <'0  on  this  excursion  after  the  irlories  of  the  reirion 
had  been  dul)'  set  forth  and  the  evidence  corroborated  so 
far  as  possible  by  the  use  of  photographs.  We  were  to 
meet  at  Lake  Louise,  where  our  headquarters  were  to  be 
at  the  chalet,  as  near  the  first  of  July  as  [)ossible. 

Though    the    individual     inclinations    of    the    various 

o 

members  of  our  part}'  might  se(Mii  unlikely  to  harmonize 

47 


< 


..#. 


'TT 


I 


48 


The  Canadian  Rockies. 


tOLjether,  we  had  nevertheless  au^reed  on  carryint^  out  a 
certain  plan.  One  of  the  party  was  an  enthusiastic 
hunter,  another  ea^^er  for  the  (glories  of  mountain  ascents, 
one  a  i^eolosj^ist,  another  carried  away  by  the  charms  of 
photoi^raphy,  while  the  fifth  and  last  was  ready  to  join  in 
almost  any  undertakinir  or  enterprise  whatsoever. 

However,  our  common  purpose  joined  us  all  together 
to  a  certain  detj^ree,  Tliis  was  to  explore  and  survey  the 
region  immediately  around  Lake  Louise;,  to  ascend  several 
of  the  highest  '>caks,  to  get  photographs  of  the  best 
scenery,  and  in  general  to  locirn  all  we  could  about  the 
environment  of  the  lake, 

Three  of  us  arrived  at  the  lake  one  fine  morning  early 
in  July.  The  beaut\'  of  the  scenery  seemed  to  make  a 
deep  impression  on  my  friends,  and  fortunately  the  clouds 
which  at  first  concealed  the  mountain  tops  lifted  soon  after 
our  arrival  and  produced  very  grand  effects.  At  that  time 
there  v^ere  t  vo  Stoney  Indians  at  the  lake,  who  were  en- 
gaged in  cutting  a  trail  to  a  lately  discovered  point  of 
interest.  One  of  these  was  named  William  Twin  ;  his 
surname  was  probably  derived  from  the  fact  that  he  had  a 
twin  brother,  whose  nami;  was  Joshua.  A  Stoney  Indian 
who  once  acted  as  my  guide  was  named  Enoch  ;  and  upon 
being  as.-.ed  his  surname  he  replied,  "Wildman."  These 
curious  cases  afford  good  examples  of  the  origin  of  names. 
William  was  a  fine-looking  Indian.  He  came  nearer  to  a 
realization  of  the  ideal  Indian  features  such  as  one  sees  on 
coins,  or  in  allegorical  figures,  than  almost  any  savage  I 
have  ever  seen. 


Stoney  Imlians. 


49 


Tom  Chiniquy  was  the  other  of  the  two  Indians,  and 
indeed  the  more  important,  as  he  is  the  eldest  son  of  Chief 
Ciiiniciuy,  who  in  turn  is  under  Hears'  Paw,  the  head  chief 
of  all  the  Stoneys.  An  air  of  settled  ij^ravity,  stern  and 
almost  borderinj:;  on  an  appearance  of  gloom,  betokened 
his  serious  nature.  I  cannot  but  admirf;  thesis  Stoni-y  In- 
dians, free  as  they  are  from  the  vices  ot  civilization,  while 
still  retaininsr  man\-  of  the  simph;  virtues  of  sava<'^e  life. 

As  we  saw  the  Indians  everj'  day  we  soon  became  ac- 
quainted with  them,  especialK'  as  William  could  talk  (luitc 
intelligibly  in  English,  The  very  first  day  of  our  arrival 
at  the  chalet  the  sharp  eyes  of  the  Indians,  which  seemed 
to  be  ever  roving  abort  in  search  of  game,  discovered  a 
herd  of  goats  on  the  moimtain  side.  In  vain  did  we  try 
to  see  them,  and  at  length,  l))-  means  of  a  pair  of  powerful 
field  glasses,  th(.'y  appeared  as  small  white  spots  without 
definite  forms,  whereas  to  the  Indians  they  were  plainly 
visible.  William  was  disgusted  with  us,  antl  said,  "  W  hite 
man  no  good  eyes,"  in  evident  scorn. 

W^ith  practice,  our  race  can  excel  the  Indians  in  every 
undertaking  re([uiring  skill,  patience,  or  physical  endur- 
ance, with  the;  exception  of  two  things  in  which  they  are 
infinitely  our  superiors.  These  are  their  ability  to  discover 
minute  objects  at  great  distances,  and  to  read  those  faint 
and  indefinite  signs  made  l)y  tlu;  passage  of  man  or  game 
through  the  forests  or  on  the  hanl  plains,  where-  a  white 
man  would  be  com])leteIy  baffled.  A  turned  leaf,  a  biiu 
blade  of  grass,  a  broken  twig,  r  even  the  sheen  on  the 
grass,   leads   the  swarthy   savage   unerria^ly  and  rapidly 


1 

1 

i 

l/l  * 

t 

i 

1 
i 

( 

i 
i 

< 


I 


50 


The  CcUKulian  Rockies. 


n 


aloiii^,  where  the  more  intelli_L,^cnt  but  less  observant  white 
man  can  see  absohitely  nothing'. 

Tile  Indian  is  said  to  be  stolid  and  indifferent,  while 
the  hard  labor  which  tlu;  squaws  ant  compelled  to  undergo 
is  always  laid  up  against  them  as  an  evidence  of  their 
!)rutal  character,  i^ut  on  the  contrary  this  is  their  method 
of  dividing  labor,  and  a  squaw  whose  husband  is  compelled 
to  work  about  their  camps  is  the  subject  of  ridicule  among 
the  rest.  The  squaws  do  all  the  work  which  rationally 
centres  around  the  camp-fire,  just  as  our  wives  preside 
over  our  hearths  and  homes.  The  bucks  provide  the  food, 
and  should  privation  occur  they  will  cheerfully  share  their 
last  morsel  \vita  their  wi\es  and  children,  and,  the  more 
honor  to  tiiem,  they  will  do  th(,'  same  b)-  a  white  man. 
The  long  and  arduous  labors  of  the  chase,  requiring  the 
severest  physical  exertion,  exhaust  ';iie  strength,  often  while 
exposed  to  cold  and  rain  for  long  periods  of  time.  The 
bucks  rightly  consider  their  labor  ended  when  they  reach 
their  camp,  or  "  teepee  "  as  they  call  them.  Here  the  scpiaws 
preside  and  perform  all  the  labor  of  cutting  and  cooking 
the  meat,  |)reserving  antl  dressing  the  hides,  and  e\en 
gathering  the  hrevvc>*>d.  They  cut  the  teepee  poles  and 
set  u[)  their  tertts  ;  and  when  not  occu[)ied  with  these  more 
severe  labors,  they  spend  their  lime  in  making  moccasins, 
weaving  baskets,  or  fanc\-  sewmg  and  beatl-work. 

.A.fter  all,  the  poor  Indian  is  our  brother,  and  not  very 
unlike  his  civilized  conquvk'  r.  One  clay  \\  illiam  told  me 
that  the  year  before  he  had  losi  his  scpiaw  and  four  chil- 
dren J>y  the  smallpox,  and  thai  it  had  affect* xl  him  so  that 


(' 


I,  I 


'Jo 111    C/'iiniquy. 

By  courtesy  oj  Mr.  S.   B.    Thompson. 
Nai'  Westminster,  B.  C. 


i 


J  I 


^ 


J  I. 


< 


■TT 


!•  ) 


1 

if 

i 


'    31 


'J 


vl 


Indian  I'alhos.  5' 

he  could  not  sleep,  in  his  own  simple  form  of  expression, 
it  was  most  pathetic  to  liear  him  speak  of  this  sad  (Aeiit, 
which  eviilently  aff(.'cted  him  deeply.  "  Mesli'e])  no  more 
now."  he  would  say,  "  all  time  think  me.  sciuaw  die,  fom- 
papoose  die,  no  sleep  me.  One  little  hoy,  me-  love  little 
ho\-,  me  —little  boy  die,  no  longer  want  to  live,  me." 

W'e  had  the  satisfaction  of  rendering  a  ^reat  service 
to  William  throuL,di  his  chikl,  who  was  a  brij^ht  ami  hand- 
some little  fellow.  By  sonn;  acciilent  a  splint(;r  of  wood 
had  becoiiK;  lodjjjtnl  in  the  boy's  eye.  VV(!  were  at  lei\LCth 
attracted  by  tlu;  peculiar  actions  of  the  little  fellow,  and 
upon  iiKpiiry  found  that  he  must  have  been  enduring' 
great  pain,  though  without  making  a  murmur  of  discon- 
tent. We  took  the  matter  in  hand  at  once  and  sent  him 
down  to  Banff,  where,  under  skilful  medical  attendance, 
his  cvesiLrht,  than  which  nothin*:  is  more  dear  to  an  Indian 
and  which  was  totally  gone  in  the  affected  eye  and  par- 
tiallv  so  in  the  other,  was  restored  in  a  i/reat  measure. 
William  was  very  grateful  to  us  ever  after,  and  on  return- 
ing, some  ten  days  later,  delivered  himself  somewhat  as 
follows  :  "  Me  say  very  much  obliged.  Thret?  white  men 
pretty  good,  I  think." 

The  Stoneys  are  a  remarkable  tribe  of  Indians.  Thcnr 
headquarters  is  at  a  little  place  called  ]\lorle\-,  about  twent)- 
miles  east  of  the  mountains  on  the  plains.  Here  they  an; 
imder  the  religious  instruction  of  the  Rev.  Mr.  McDougal. 
So  far  as  the  Indian  is  capable  of  receiving  and  following 
tV,'  j)recepts  of  Christianity,  th(;  Stonejs  seem  to  have 
•jquall'  d  or  surpassed  all   other  tribes.      They  are  said  to 


I 


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<>":^>^^nO. 


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52 


The  Canadian  Rockies. 


I     i^ 


p 


II 5 


be  great  Bible  readers,  and  they  certainly  show  some 
familiarity  with  the  Old  Testament  history,  if  we  may 
judge  by  their  custom  of  adopting  Bible  names.  They 
have  been  taught  a  certain  arbitrary  code  by  which  they 
can  read  and  write  in  a  simple  manner,  while  many  of 
them  talk  English  if  not  fluently  at  least  intelligibly. 

Their  manner  of  dress  is  a  concession  to  their  own 
native  ideas  and  those  of  civilization,  for  while  they  in- 
variably cling  to  moccasins  and  usually  affect  trousers  cut 
from  blankets  with  broad  wings  or  flaps  at  tlie  sides,  their 
costume  is  not  infrequently  completed  by  some  old  dis- 
carded coat  received  by  purchase  or  gift  from  the  white 
man.  These  Indians  rarely  wear  hat  or  cap,  but  allow 
their  straight  black  hair  to  reach  their  shoulders  and  serve 
in  place  of  any  artificial  protection.  On  either  side  of 
the  face  the  hair  is  gathered  into  a  braid  so  as  to  do  away 
with  the  inconvenience  of  constantly  pushing  back  their 
loose  hair. 

Dr.  Dawson  says  that  the  Stoney  Indians  have  very 
few  names  for  the  mountains  and  rivers,  and  that  they 
have  only  inhabited  this  region  for  about  forty  years. 
The  greater  part  of  the  Indian  names  for  various  features 
of  the  country  are  in  reality  Cree  or  their  equivalents  in 
Stoney.  The  Stoneys  have  recently  incorporated  the 
families  of  the  Mountain  Crees  with  their  own.  Accord- 
ing to  De  Smet,  both  the  Crees  and  the  Stoneys  migrated 
southward  from  the  Athabasca  region  a  few  years  before 
1849,  ^^^'^^  it  is  probable  that  they  entered  this  region 
about  that  time. 


Palliscrs  Opinion. 


53 


I  cannot  conclude  this  digression  on  the  Stoney 
Indians  without  quoting  a  few  reii.arks  from  Captain 
PalHscr's  reports.  Though  written  nearl)'  forty  years 
ago  these  facts  are  no  less  true  than  at  that  time. 

"  The  members  of  the  Stone  tribe  are  hard  workers, 
as  their  life  is  one  requiring  constant  exertion  and  fore- 
sight. They  travel  in  the  mountains  or  in  the  forests 
along  their  eastern  base,  in  parties  of  six  or  seven  families. 
The  young  men  are  always  off  hunting  in  search  of  moose 
or  other  kinds  of  deer,  or  of  the  Rocky  Mountain  sheep. 
The  old  men  busy  themselves  cutting  out  the  travelling 
tracks  through  the  woods,  while  the  women  pack  and 
drive  the  few  horses  they  use  for  earring  their  small 
st,)plies.  They  generally  use  skin  tents  stretched  on  a 
conical  framework  of  poles,  but  their  wigwams  are  much 
smaller  than  those  of  the  Plain  Indians.  The  women 
dress  all  the  skins  of  the  animals  they  kill  into  a  soft 
leather,  which,  when  smoked,  is  the  material  used  through- 
out the  whole  country  for  making  moccasins,  most  of  the 
fine  leather  being  obtained  from  the  Stoneys.  They  are 
excellent  hunters,  and  though  as  a  rule  small  and  feeble 
in  body,  are  probably  capable  of  more  endurance  than 
any  other  class  of  Indians.  They  make  trustworthy 
guides,  and,  with  a  few  exceptions,  after  some  acquaint- 
ance with  this  tribe,  you  no  more  expect  to  be  deceived, 
or  told  lies,  as  a  matter  of  course,  than  you  would  in  a 
community  of  white  men." 

So  much  for  the  Rocky  Mountain  Stoneys,  or  as  they 
are  sometimes  called,  the  Assiniboines. 


i 
t 

1  4  * 

j5' 

-    fi 

i 

. 

ij 

'  'I'i 


I  i, 


N 


I  f. 


.i{i 


54 


The  Canadian  Rockies. 


41 


The  completion  of  our  party  did  not  take  place  at  the 
wished-for  time,  and  for  more  than  two  weeks  Mr.  1*".  and 
Mr.  H.,  and  I  were  alone  at  the  chalet.  We  commenced 
our  surveyinj::^  work  by  measuring  a  very  accurate  base  line 
on  the  lake  shore,  and  began  training  by  making  various 
moderate  excursions  on  the  mountain  sides.  On  the  third 
day,  however,  after  our  arrival  the  whole  plan  of  our  party 
camt.'  near  having  a  most  sudden  and  unwished-for  termi- 
nation, together  with  results  which  nearly  proved  fatal  to 
one  of  the  party.  The  accident  and  its  attendant  circum- 
stances proved  the  most  exciting  episode  in  all  our  experi- 
ences, and  as  it  most  clearly  illustrates  the  chief  danger 
of  climbiniT  in  the  Canadian  Rockies,  I  shall  describe  it 
in  detail. 

It  happened  in  this  manner.  On  the  13th  of  July,  Mr. 
H..  Mr.  F.,  and  I  started  to  make  an  exploration  of  the 
glacier  that  is  plainly  visible  from  the  chalet  and  which, 
some  two  miles  distant,  flows  down  from  the  snow  fields 
and  hanging  glaciers  of  Mount  Lefroy.  This  glacier  is 
formed  from  two  branches,  which  come  in  from  the  east, 
and  uniting  into  one  great  stream,  terminate  about  one 
mile  above  the  head  of  the  lake.  The  extreme  length 
from  the  snout  measured  to  the  highest  part  of  the  gla- 
cier is  about  three  miles,  while  the  average  width  is  less 
than  one  third  of  a  mile. 

Tl  e  object  of  this  excursion  was  in  great  part  to  gain 
a  little  knowledge  of  the  use  of  rope  and  ice-ax  j,  which  we 
expected  would  be  required  in  much  of  our  subsequent 
work.     There  was  no  difficulty   in  the  first  part  of  this 


f 


Glacier  Debris. 


55 


excursion,    as   a   .sroocl    trail    leads    round    the    lake   and 
some  iialf-mile  beyond.      There  we  forded  the  icy  stream 
which  comes  from  the  glacier  and  pursued  our  way  be- 
tween the  moraine  and  the  mountain  side  for   nearly  a 
mile  on  the  east  side  of  the  glacier.     Our  next  move  was 
to  ascend  the  moraine,  which  was  very  steep  and  about  a 
himdred  feet  high  at  this  point.      On  arriving  at  the  sharp 
crest  of  the  moraine,  we  saw  the  great  ice  stream  some 
fifty  feet  below,   and  so  thoroughly  covered  with  debris 
and  boulders  that  the  glacier  was  almost  totally  concealed. 
The  passage  down  the  moraine  was  very  disagreeable,  as 
the  loose  stones  all  scratched  and  polished  by  their  former 
passage  under   the  glacier  were  now  rolling  from  under 
our  feet  and  starting  up  great  clouds  of  dust.     Just  below, 
at  the  border  of  the  glacier,  the  water  from  the   melting 
ice  had  converted  the  clay  of  the  moraine  into  treacherous 
pools  of  bluish-gray  mutl.  veritable  sloughs  of  despond. 
At  length,  by  the  use  of  our  ice-axes,  we  gained  the  firmer 
ice  and  with  it  the  advantage  of  far  more  pleasant  walk- 
ing.    We  found  the  whole  surface  of  the  glacier  literally 
covered  with  sharp  stones  and  boulders  of  all  sizes  up 
to  those  which  must  have  measured   ten   feet  square  by 
twenty  feet  long.     They  represented  all  sorts  of  forma- 
tions, shales,  limestones,  and  sandstones  thrown  down  in 
wild  disorder  over  the  entire  surface  of  the  ice.     All  this 
material  had  been  wrested  from  the  mountain  side  far  up 
the  valley  by  frost  and  avalanche,  and  was  now  slowly 
moving  toward  the  great  terminal  moraii-t       In  one  place 
a  large  area  of  nearly  half  an  acre  was  strewed  with  c-jant 


iil 


.1  ; 


m 


I  -' 


!.i    ;. 


II 


56 


Tlic  Canadian  Rockies. 


n 


i 


blocks  of  a  peculiar  kind  of  rock  diffcrt-nt  from  all  the 
rest,  which  appareiitly  had  come  thundering  down  the 
mountain  walls  in  one  great  rock-slide  many  years  ago. 
Large  flat  slabs  of  shale  were  seen  here  and  there  su|)- 
ported  on  pillars  of  ice,  showing  how  much  the  general 
surface  of  the  glacier  had  wasted  away  under  the  influ- 
ence of  the  sun's  heat,  while  these  pillars  had  been  pro- 
tected by  the  shade  of  the  stone. 

Advancing  half  a  mile  over  the  field  of  debris,  we  came 
gradually  to  where  there  were  fewer  stones,  and  at  length 
reached  almost  pure  ice.  The  question  always  arises 
where  do  all  the  boulders  and  pebbles  that  cover  the 
lower  parts  of  the  glaciers  come  from  ?  In  the  upper 
parts  of  the  glaciers  or  neve  regions,  where  the  snow 
remains  perpetual  and  increases  from  year  to  year,  the 
stones  from  the  mountain  sides  are  covered  as  they  fall, 
and  are  at  length  buried  deep  and  surrounded  by  ice  as 
the  snow  becomes  compressed  and  solidified.  As  the 
glacier  advances  down  the  valley  and  descends  to  lower 
altitudes,  a  level  is  at  length  reached  where  the  snowfall 
of  winter  is  exactly  balanced  by  the  melting  of  summer. 
This  is  the  snow  line,  or  rather  this  is  the  best  place  in 
which  to  locate  such  a  variable  level.  Below  this  line  the 
surface  of  the  glacier  melts  away  more  than  enough  to 
make  up  for  the  winter  fall  of  snow,  and,  as  a  result,  the 
stones  and  debris  buried  in  the  ice  gradually  appear  on 
the  surface.  In  the  Canadian  Rockies  near  this  latitude 
the  snow  line  on  northerly  exposures,  as  judged  by  this 
method,  is  about  7000  feet  above  the  sea,  which  is  also 
just  about  the  level  called  tree  line. 


On  the  (ilacicr. 


57 


In  mountainous  regions,  where  the  climatt;  is  very  dry, 
as  in  Colorado  or  in  certain  parts  of  the  Andes,  there  is 
a  great  bctlt  of  several  thousand  feet  between  tree  line 
and  snow  linci  wlu-re  there  is  not  sufficient  moisture'  to 
allow  of  tree  growth  nor  sufficient  snowfall  to  form 
glaciers  at  all.  In  the  Canadian  Rockies  the  climatt;  is 
moist  enough  to  make  these  lines  approach,  and  in  the 
Selkirk  Range  and  regions  of  extreme  humidity  the  snow 
line  is  actually  lower  than  the  tree  line. 

We  advanced  slowly  over  the  glacier  and  foimd  much 
of  interest  on  every  side.  The  surface  of  tiu;  ice  was  at 
first  comparatively  smooth  and  channell(;il  with  small 
streams  of  pure  water  which  (lowed  along  with  utmost 
rapidity  but  almost  without  ripples,  as  the  smooth  icy 
grooves  seem  adapted  to  every  whim  of  the  flowing  water. 
At  length  the  ice  became  more  uneven  and  our  passage 
was  interrupted  by  crevasses,  around  which  we  had  to 
thread  our  way  by  many  a  turn  and  detour.  Most  of 
them  were,  however,  partly  filled  or  bridged  by  snow  and 
we  found  no  particular  difficulty  in  pursuing  our  way. 
About  one  o'clock  we  found  ourselves  at  the  base  of 
Mount  Lefroy,  a  little  beyond  the  point  where  the  two 
branchf  unite,  and  we  held  a  consultation  as  to  the  plan 
of  our  farther  advance.  Mount  Lefroy  rises  from  the 
glacier  in  precipitous  cliffs  on  every  side,  and  we  were 
even  now  under  the  shadow  of  its  ijloomy  and  threatening 
rock  wall.  There  is  no  apparent  method  of  scaling  this 
mountain  except  by  a  long  couloir  or  snow  slope,  which 
rises  from  the  glacier  and  ascends  nearly  looo  feet  to  a 
more  gentle  slope  above  the  precipice.     It  was  our  inten- 


'); 


r 


5« 


The  Canadian  Rockies. 


tion  to  ascend  this  mouiitain,  if  possible,  some  time  during 
the  summer  but  the  results  of  our  first  exploration  for  a 
favorable  route  rather  inclined  us  to  give  up  further 
attempts. 

The  result  of  our  consultation  was  the  decision  to 
climb  a  short  way  up  the  couloir  in  order  to  see  if  it  were 
possible  to  reach  the  gentle  slope  above.  If  this  proved 
practicable,  the  ascent  of  the  mountain  was  almost  assured, 
as  no  great  difficulties  presented  themselves  above.  Ac- 
cordingly we  commenced  the  ascent,  all  roped  together  in 
true  Alpine  fashion,  and  soon  found  the  pitch  so  steep 
that  our  ice-axes  rendered  us  much  assistance  in  cuttinijf 
steps.  A  number  of  great  sckrnnds  or  horizontal  cre- 
vasses often  found  on  such  slopes  appeared  to  block  our 
way,  but  as  we  approached  we  found  a  passage  round 
every  one.  They  were  boat-shaped  holes  in  the  snow 
some  forty  or  fifty  feet  deep  and  about  the  same  width. 
The  bottom  of  each  appeared  smooth  and  apparently  of 
firm  snow,  so  that  they  were  not  in  reality  very  dangerous 
obstacles,  as  compared  with  the  narrow  and  wellnigh 
unfathomable  crevasses  of  an  ordinary  glacier. 

Nevertheless,  when  we  had  reached  a  point  several 
hundred  feet  above  the  schrunds  and  were  on  a  steep  slope 
of  snow,  my  companions  advocated  taking  to  the  rock 
ledges  on  the  right  of  the  snow,  as  they  were  altogether 
inexperienced  in  mountain  climbing  and  felt  somewhat 
nervous.  We  found  the  rock  ledges  practicable  and  quite 
easy  except  for  a  great  number  of  loose  stones  which 
went    rattling   down    as    we   advanced.     We   were    in  a 


A  Terrible  Accident. 


59 


jrloomy  narrow  j^orot;  T'llccl  with  snow  and  hemmed  in  on 
either  side  by  cMffs  which  rose  with  ahnost  vertical  sides, 
here  and  there  drippinj^r  with  water  from  the  snows  above. 

Whenever  we  paused  for  a  momentary  rest  ami  the 
slidin^r,  rattlinjr  stones  ceased  to  fall,  we  were  oppresseii 
by  the  awful  silence  of  this  cheerless  place  of  rocks  and 
snow  nearly  Sooo  feet  above  sea  level. 

It  was  while  ascendinj^  these  rock  ledges  that  the  acci- 
dent occurred  which  came  so  near  proving  disastrous. 
There  were  a  series  of  ledges  from  six  to  ten  feet  high 
alternating  with  narrow  shelves  where  the  slope  was  only 
moderately  steep.  The  whole  place  was  strewed  with  loose 
stones  and  boulders,  some  of  which  were  so  delicately 
poised  that  the  slightest  touch  seemed  suf^ficient  to  send 
them  crashing  down  the  cliff.  At  length  a  very  dangerous 
looking  stone  of  large  size  could  be  seen  on  the  next  shelf 
above  us  apparently  just  balanced  in  its  precarious  position, 
for  the  light  could  be  seen  underneath  its  base.  H.  fol- 
lowed me  in  safety  around  this  great  boulder  which  must 
have  weighed  more  than  half  a  ton.  I  was  on  the  point 
of  ascending  the  next  ledge  with  the  assistance  of  H.  when 
we  both  heard  a  dull  grating  sound  below,  and  turning, 
beheld  the  great  boulder  starting  to  roll  over,  and  I*",  just 
below  it  and  on  the  point  of  falling  over  the  cliff.  F, 
fell  about  ten  feet  to  the  next  shelf  where  he  was  partially 
checked  by  the  rope  and  prevented  from  falling  farther. 
But  to  our  horror  the  boulder,  which  had  now  gained 
considerable  motion,  followed  af  ;er,  and  leaping  over  the 
ledge,  for  a  short  but  awful  moment  it  seemed  to  hang  in 


:    s 


U 


;        ii 


t  ! 


r 


V.t^ 


60 


The  Canadian  Rockies. 


If 


iniil-air,  and  then  came  down  on  I\\vitli  terrible  force.  It 
seemed  impossible  that  then;  should  hv.  anythinj^  left  of 
our  |)Oor  friend.  With  a  horrible  crash  and  roar  tin;  j^nvat 
stone  continued  down  the  {.jorge,  attended  ijy  a  thousand 
Hying  fraiLiments  till  the;  rt)cky  clifls  echoed  a|j;ain. 

After  a  momentary  pause,  unable  to  move  and  riveted 
to  our  places  in  horror,  wo  hastily  scrambU.'d  down  to  our 
coinpanion  who  lay  on  the  cliff  insensible  and  bleeding, 
(^ur  first  efforts  were  to  staunch  his  wounds  with  snow 
and  then  a  hasty  examination  provc^d  that  thouijh  his  hip 
appeared  dislocated  he  had  received  probably  no  further 
serious  injury.  This  escape  appeared  almost  miraculous 
and  it  is  probable  that  in  the  Hying  cloud  of  stones  a 
smaller  piece  just  happened  to  come  under  the  great 
boulder  and  supported  it  partially  at  one  end  so  that  the 
full  force  of  the  blow  was  not  felt.  It  was  now  half-past 
two  in  the  afternoon  and  we  were  three  hours'  journey  from 
the  chalet  with  a  man  on  our  hands  absolutely  incapable 
of  walking  or  even  partially  supporting  his  weight.  It 
was  evident  that  one  of  us  must  needs  hasten  back  to  the 
chalet  for  aid,  but  first  it  was  necessary  to  get  down  the 
long  snow-  ilope  to  the  glacier. 

Fortunately  our  rope  was  fully  sixty  feet  long  and 
after  tying  a  loop  under  F.'s  shoulders,  I  anchored  myself 
securely  with  my  ice-axe  in  the  snow,  and  then  lowered 
him  rapidly  but  safely  the  length  of  the  rope.  H.  then 
went  down  to  F.  and  held  him  while  I  descended,  and 
thus  after  twelve  or  fifteen  repetitions  of  this  proceeding 
we  all  landed  in  safety  on  the  glacier.      Having  selected  a 


To  the  Rescue. 


6i 


place  on  the  ice  which  was  partial!)  covcntl  with  a  few 
small  stones,  wr.  took  olT  our  coats  and  placed  our  woundetl 
companion  on  this  hard  cold  couch. 

Carryinj^   nothing    Imt    my   icc-a.xe,    I   started  for    tlu' 
chalet  at  once.      Tiu-  first  part  of  the  journey,  while  thread- 
ing^ tlu'  crevasses,  was  slow  and  somewhat  dauijerous  without 
tlu-  rope,  but  by  running  wheni'ver  practicable  and  pushing 
my  energies  to  the  utiuost.  1  reacheil  the  chalet   in   oni- 
hour  and  ten  minutes,  or  less  than  half  tlu-  time  rec|uircd 
by  us  to  come  up  in  the   morning.      Unfortunately  no  one 
was  at   the  chalet  e.xcept  Joe   the   cook.      I    however  got 
him  started  immediatel)-  to  cut  two  long,  stout  poles  and  a 
piece   of  canvas  with  which  to  make  a  litter.     Thi-  two 
Indians  were    on    the    mountain   side   near   Minor   Lake 
working  on  the  trail  and  Mr.  Astley,  the  manager  of  the 
chalet,  was  guiding  some  visitors  to  Lake  Agnes.      There 
was  no  other  course  open  than   to  climb  up  after  them, 
though    I   was  (|uite   exhausted    by    this    time.      I    found 
William  aftt;r  twenty  minutes  of  hanl  climbing  and  made 
him   understand  the  situation  at  once.     One  must  use  a 
simple  manner  of  speech  as  near  like  their  own  as  possible, 
so  I  said  to  him—"  William,   three  white  nn;n  go  up  big 
snow  mountain.     Big  stone  came  down,  hurt   one  man. 
Tom,  Mr.  Astley,  you — all  go  up  snow  mountain,   bring 
white  man  back."     William's  face  was  a  picture  of  horror, 
and  he  asked  in  anxiety — "  Kill  him  ?  "     I  said  no,  but  that 
he  must  hurry  and  get  the  other  men.      Dropping  his  a.xe, 
he  ran  off  for  the  others  in  all  haste,  while  I  returned  to 
the  chalet  and  gathered  sundry  provisions  and  stimulants. 


I  K^i 


,1   i^ 


p 


63 


'lliL-  Canadian  Rockies 


riu:  rcscuiniL,'  party  of  four  mi-n  was  started  in  about 
thirty  minutc.'s,  and  takinj^  the  boat,  rowed  down  ihv  lake, 
till  at  last  the  small  black  sptuk  on  the  water  disappeared 
from  our  view  as  they  neared  the  farther  end. 

A  two-atul-a-half  mih;  ride  on  horseback  brouj^ht  me 
to  the  railroad  station,  where;  I  sent  a  teioj^ram  to  Banff 
for  the  Doctor.  As  th(;re  would  hv.  no  train  till  the  ne.xt 
morninj^f  I  made  arranj^ements  for  a  hand-car  to  brin^ 
th<!  Doctor  up  at  once.  A  response  soon  came  back  that 
he  was  just  a' out  to  start  on  his  lonj;  ride  of  thirty-eiy;ht 
miles  to  Lajj^jj^an. 

Meanwhile  poor  F.  and  H.  were  havinjjf  a  miserable 
time  of  it  on  the  (glacier.  The  lonjr  hour.-i  rolleil  by  one 
after  another  and  no  sign  of  ai-l  or  assistance  was  appar- 
ent. The  days  were  still  very  long,  but  at  length  the 
declining  sun  sank  behind  the  great  ridge  or  mountain 
wall  exttmding  northward  from  Mount  Lefroy.  The  gla- 
cier which  imparts  a  chilly  dampness  even  to  the  brilliancy 
of  a  mid-day  sun  now  rapidly  became  cold  in  the  length- 
ening shadows,  and  the  surface  waters  began  to  freeze, 
while  the  deep  blue  pools  of  water  shot  out  little  needles 
of  ice  with  surprising  rapidity. 

As  they  had  seen  me  no  more  after  I  had  disappeared 
behind  a  swelling  mound  of  ice,  they  conjured  up  in  their 
imaginations  the  possibility  that  I  had  fallen  into  some 
deep  crevasse  or  had  hurt  myself  on  the  treacherous 
moraine.  At  length,  urged  to  desperate  resolves,  they 
formed  a  plan  of  leaving  the  ice  by  the  nearest  route, 
at  whatever  hazard  to  life  and  limb,  rather  than  die  of 


Imlian  COnsolalioii. 


63 


cold  ancl  cxposnnr  on  tlic  j^dacii-r.  'riiry  liad  ahundaiU 
opportunity  foi-  stiidyiiii^f  the  (.jrand  phenomena  of  this 
Alpine  reijion  near  at  hand  :  the  thimderinj^'  avalanches 
from  the  cliffs  behind  them,  and  tin;  crackint,'.  i^^roanini^ 
ice  of  the  i^lacier  as  the  threat  fro/en  stream  moved  slow!)' 
over  its  rocky  uneven  hed. 

At  len_L(th,  to  their  j^^reat  joy,  they  discerned  by  means 
of  a  fieid-j^dass  which  we  !iad  carried  with  us  in  the  morn- 
\n'^,  the  boat  ieavinj,^  the  lake  shore  and  slowly  approach- 
in^^  In  half  an  hour  the  party  reached  the  near  .,  1  of 
the  lake  and  were  then  lost  to  view  for  nearly  two  hours, 
till  at  length  four  little  black  dots  ap|j»;ared  about  a  mile 
distant  moving  over  th(;  ice  toward  them. 

The  rescuing  party  did  not  reach  them  till  seven 
o'clock,  or  more  than  four  hours  after  the  accident  oc- 
curred. The  return  to  the  chalet  was  most  exhaustin^r 
to  the  men,  especially  to  the  Indians,  whose  moccasins 
afforded  poor  protection  against  the  sharp  stones  and  ice 
of  the  glacier. 

Two  section  men  came  up  from  Laggan  and  met  the 
party  as  they  were  returning,  and  afforded  timely  aid  Ijy 
their  fresh  strength.  Poor  F.  was  carried  in  a  canvas 
litter  hastily  constructed  and  consequently  not  perfect 
in  its  results,  as  it  only  served  to  lift  him  a  very  little 
above  the  ground  at  the  best  and  then  where  the  ground 
was  very  smooth.  William  observed  liis  haggard  face  and 
woe-begone  appearance  with  concern  and  entertained  the 
invalid  at  frequent  intervals  by  such  remarks  as,  "You 
think  you  die,  me  think  so  too."     The  rescuing  party  ar- 


nl 


ti- 


I 


PT 


i   i: 


64 


The  Canadian  Rockies. 


rived  at  the  chalet  shortly  after  midnicrht,  while  the  Doctor 
appeared  an  h^  ir  la'er.  Each  party  had  been  travelling 
for  the  last  five  hours  toward  the  chalet,  and  while  one 
was  accomplishing-  about  three  miles  the  other  covered 
more  than  forty. 

Fortunately  there  were  no  i  juries  discovered  that 
would  not  heal  in  a  few  weeks,  and  through  the  inlUience 
of  mountain  air  and  perfect  rest,  recovery  took  place  much 
more  quickly  than  could  be  expected. 


CHAPTER  V. 

Castle  Cra^^i, — F.arly  A/oniiii^t:;  on  the  Mountain  SiJe—l'ieic  from  the 
Summit— Ascent  of  the  AiguilU  — An  Avalanche  of  Rocks— A  Glorious 
Glissade— St.  Piran—lts  Alpine  Flowers  ami  Butterjlies— Expedition  to 
an  Unexplored  \'alle\ — A  Thirsty  Walk  through  the  Forest— Discovery 
of  a  Mountain  Torrent— A  Lake  in  the  Forest— A  Mountain  Amphi- 
theatre—The Saddle- Impressive  l'ic7i'  of  Mt.  Temple— Summit  of  Great 
Mountain— An  Ascent  in  Vain— A  Sudden  Storm  in  the  High  Mountains 
—Phenomenal  Fall  of  Temperature— Grand  Cloud  Effects. 

WHILE  poor  F".  was  recovering  from  his  in- 
juries, and  before  the  two  other  men  liad 
arrived,  H.  and  I  carried  on  the  work  of 
surveying  the  lake,  and  made  several  interesting  excur- 
sions on  the  adjacent  mountain  sides. 

One  fine  cool  morning,  we  went  up  the  valley  about 
half  a  mile  beyond  the  end  of  the  lake,  and  commenced 
an  ascent  of  the  sharp-crested  ridge  on  the  east  side  of 
the  valley.  This  ridge  forms  a  connection  between  the 
massive  mountain  on  the  left  of  the  lake,  known  as  Great 
Mountain,  and  a  very  high  summit,  crowned  with  a  fine 
glacier,  and  named  by  some  one  Hazel  Peak,  which  lies 
about  two  miles  due  south  of  Lake  Louise.  This  con- 
necting ridge  we  called  Castle  Crags,  a  name  readily  sug- 
gested by  the  i;  regular  forms  and  outlines  of  the;  sharp 

5  65 


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66 


The  Canadian  Rockies. 


needles  and  fingers,  pointing  heavenward,  which  adorned 
its  liighest  crest,  and  seemed  to  represent  the  battle- 
ments and  embrasures  of  some  great  castle.  Several 
sharp  columns  of  stone,  with  vertical  sides,  and  narrow, 
graceful  forms,  rose  up  from  this  great  parapet  buMt  by 
nature.  Resembling  feudal  towers  or  donjons,  they 
seemed  by  their  great  altitude  to  pierce  the  blue  vault 
of  heaven,  and  to  dwarf  by  their  proximity  the  snowy 
crest  of  Hazel  Peak,  which,  in  reality,  is  several  thousand 
feet  higher. 

To  ascend  this  ridge,  and,  if  possible,  gain  the  summit 
of  one  of  these  needles,  from  which  we  hoped  to  obtain  a 
fine  idea  of  the  valley  to  the  east,  was  the  purpose  of  our 
excursion.  The  ascent  proved  easy  almost  from  the  start. 
On  leaving  the  stream,  which  we  crossed  by  means  of 
some  great  trees,  long  since  overcome  by  age  or  storm, 
and  now  serving  as  convenient  bridges  at  frequent  inter- 
vals, we  commenced  to  ascend  a  long,  even  slope  of  lime- 
stone boulders,  stable  in  position,  and  affording  easy  walk- 
ing. The  air  was  fresh  and  cool,  for  the  morning  sun 
was  just  rising  over  the  crest  of  Castle  Crags,  while  the 
rays  of  light  seemed  to  skip  from  boulder  to  boulder,  and, 
gently  touching  the  higher  points,  left  the  others  in  shade. 
There  were  no  bushes  or  tangled  underbrush  to  impede 
our  way,  and  so  we  had  abundant  opportunity  to  enjoy 
the  beautiful  flowers  which  cropped  out  in  little  patches 
among  the  yellOiV,  gray,  and  cream-colored  limestones. 
This  was  a  mountain  climb  that  proved  thoroughly  enjoy- 
able, for  all  the  conditions  of  atmosphere,  of  weather,  and 


Mornino-  on  the  Mountain  Side. 


67 


easy  ascent  were  in  our  favor.     There  is  a  charm  about 
the  early  morning  hours  among  the  high  mountains.    The 
bracing  coohiess  of  the  air.  as  yet  still  and  calm  after  the 
chill  and  quiet  of  night,  the  gradually  rising  sun  and  in- 
creasing light,  the  unusual  freshness  of  the  flowers  and 
green  vegetation,  in  their  sparkling  bath  of  dew,  and  the 
quiet  calls  of  birds,— all  seemed  to  herald  the  birth  of  a  new 
da\-,  far  richer  in  promise  than  any  heretofore.     The  after- 
noon, with  its  mellow  light  and  declining  sun,  is  like  the 
calm,  cool  days  of  October,  with  its  dusty  foliage  and  sear 
leaves,  brilliant  in  autumnal  colors,  but  ever  suggesting 
the  approach  of  bleak  winter,  and  pointing  bac^to  the 
glories  of  the  past.     The  morning  points  forward  with  a 
different  meaning,  and  hopefully  announces  the  activity  of 
another  day,   even    as    spring  is  the  threshold   and    the 
promise  of  summer  time. 

As  we  advanced,  and  gradually  increased  our  altitude, 
the  plants  and  flowers  changed  in  variety,  character,  and 
size,  till  at  length  we    left   all    vegetation    behind,    and 
reached  the  bottom  of  a  long,  gentle  slope  of  snow.     The 
sun  had  not,  as  yet,  touched  the  snow,  and  it  was  hard 
and   granular    in    the    frosty  air.     The   f^rst  snow  on  a 
mountain  climb  is  always  pleasant  to  a  mountaineer.     To 
him,  as.    indeed,  to  any  one,  the  summer  snow-bank  has 
no  suggestion  of  winter,  with  its  desolate  landscapes  and 
cold  blasts,  but  rather  of  some  delightful  experiences  in 
the  mountains  during  vacation.     These  lingering  relics  of 
winter  have  little  power  to  chill  the  air,  which  is  often 
balmy  and  laden  with  the  fragrance  of  flowers,  in  the  im- 


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68 


The  Canadian  Rockies. 


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mediate  vicinity  of  large  snow  areas.  The  trickling 
rivulet,  formed  from  the  wasting  snows  of  the  mountain 
side,  is  often  the  only  place  where,  for  hours  at  a  time,  the 
thirsty  climbtT  may  find  a  cold  and  delicious  draught. 
Instead  of  destroying  the  flowers  by  their  chilly  influence, 
these  banks  of  snow  often  send  down  a  gentle  and  con- 
stant supply  of  water,  which  spreads  out  over  grassy  slopes 
below,  and  nourishes  a  little  garden  of  Alpine  flowers, 
where  all  else  is  dry  and  barren. 

Arrived  at  the  top  of  the  long  snow-slope,  we  found  our- 
selves already  nearly  3000  feet  above  the  valley  and  not 
far  below  the  crest  of  the  ridge.  A  rough  scramble  now 
ensued  over  loose  limestone  blocks,  where  we  found  the 
sharp  edges,  and  harsh  surfaces  of  these  stones,  very  hard 
on  our  shoes  and  hands.  Upon  reaching  the  crest,  wt;  be- 
held one  of  those  fearfully  grand  and  thrilling  views  which 
this  portion  of  the  Rocky  Mountains  otien  alTords.  The 
most  conspicuous  object  in  the  whole  view  was  the  glacier, 
which  descends  from  the  very  summit  of  Hazel  Peak, 
at  an  altitude  of  more  than  10,000  feet,  and  sweeps  down 
in  a  nearly  straight  channel  to  the  north,  and  in  the  course 
of  but  little  more  than  a  mile  descends  4000  feet.  A 
gloomy,  narrow  valley  hems  in  its  lower  half,  and  on  the 
side  where  we  were,  the  precipice  rose,  in  nearly  perpen- 
dicular sides  from  the  ice,  far  heavenward  to  where  we 
stood.  We  launched  a  few  large  stones  over  the  verge  of 
the  beetling  precipice,  and  watched  them  descend  in  a  few 
great  leaps  into  the  awful  abyss,  where  they  were  broken 
into  a  thousand  fragments  on  projecting  ledges,  or  else. 


I J 


Ascent  of  the  Aiuuilie. 


69 


strikinsT^  the  glacier,  continued  their  course  till  the  eye 
could  no  lontrer  follow  them. 

We  were  standing-  just  at  the  base  of  one  of  the 
ii/^iii7ics  which,  from  the  valley,  seem  like  sharp  points  of 
rock,  but,  now  that  we  were  near,  proved  to  be  about  sixty 
feet  hi<^h.  This  needle  appeared  to  be  precipitous  and  in- 
accessible on  our  first  examination.  liut  we  discovered  a 
narrow  crevice  or  orully  on  the  west  side  which  apparently 
offered  a  safe  method  of  ascent.  I  was  soon  near  the  top 
of  the  needle,  but  at  thi;  most  difficult  part,  when;  only 
one  small  crack  in  the  rock  offered  a  t,a)od  hand-hold,  I 
was  warned  not  to  touch  one  side  where  the  cliff  seemed 
parted,  and  filled  with  loose  material.  Making  a  reconnais- 
sance, I  found  the  back  of  this  same  crag  likewise  separated 
a  little  from  the  solid  rock,  and  the  crevice  partially  dis- 
guised by  loose  stones  and  dirt,  which  had  settled  in  and 
filled  the  hollow.  This  crag  was  about  ten  feet  high  and 
six  or  seven  feet  square,  and  though  it  seemed  impossible 
to  disturb  so  great  a  mass,  I  felt  inclined  to  take  the  safer 
course  and  leave  it  entirely  alone,  so  I  scrambled  up  by  a 
more  difficult  route. 

Arrived  on  the  top  of  the  needle,  I  told  H.,  who  had  re- 
mained below,  to  get  under  shelter  while  I  should  put  this 
crag  to  the  test.  He  accordingly  found  a  projecting  ledge 
of  rock  a  little  to  one  side,  while  I  sat  down  and  got  a 
good  brace  and  started  to  push  with  my  feet  against  the 
top  o,  the  crag.  A  slight  effort  proved  sufficient,  and 
with  a  dull  grating  sound  the  great  mass,  which  must  have 
weighed  about  twenty-five  tons,  toppled  slowly  over  on  its 


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W,'"'^ 


The  Canadian  Rockies. 


base,  and  then  fell  with  a  fearful  crash  against  the  sides  of 
the  cliff,  and  commenced  to  roll  down  the  mountain  side 
like  a  veritable  avalanche.  Through  the  cloud  of  dust 
and  Hying  stones  I  could  faintly  discern  the  features  of  my 
friend  below,  apparently  much  interested  in  what  was  going 
on.  It  was  well  that  I  had  not  trusted  to  this  treacherous 
stone, 

/\fter  I  had  pushed  down  most  of  the  loose  stones,  H. 
came  up  and  joined  me  on  the  summit  of  the  aiguille. 
This  needle  had  a  blunt  point  indeed,  for  it  proved  to  be 
a  Hat  table  about  hfty  feet  long  and  ten  feet  wide. 
We  were  8,700  feet  above  sea-level,  and  the  wind 
was  raw  and  chilly  as  it  swept  up  from  the  valley  and 
over  this  ridge.  The  sun  had  but  little  power  to  temper 
the  air,  and  we  soon  started  on  our  descent.  In  about  five 
minutes  we  reached  tlie  top  of  the  long  snow-slope,  where 
we  enjoyed  a  glorious  glissade  and  rapidly  descended  more 
than  a  thousand  feet.  The  best  manner  of  irlissadinsjf  is 
to  stand  straight  up  and  slide  on  the  feet,  having  one  leg 
straight  and  the  other  slightly  bent  at  the  knee.  Trailing 
the  ice-axe  behind  as  a  precaution  against  too  great  speed, 
or  to  check  the  motion  in  case  of  a  fall,  the  mountaineer 
can  thus,  in  a  few  minutes,  rapidly  coast  down  long  slopes 
which  may  have  required  hours  of  toil  to  ascend.  Nothing 
in  the  experience  of  climbers  is  more  exhilarating  than  a 
good  glissade  down  a  long  snow-slope.  The  rush  of  air, 
the  Hying  snow,  and  the  necessity  for  constant  attention 
to  balance — all  give  a  sensation  of  pleasure,  combined  with 
a  spice   of   danger,  without   which  latter  almost    all  our 


St.  l^iran. 


71 


sports  and  pastimes  are  apt  to  be  tame.  Do  not  many  of 
our  best  sports,  such  as  polo,  horseback  ridinji^,  foot-ball, 
yachtinjj^,  and  canoe  sailing,  ^^ain  some  of  their  zest  from  a 
constant  possibility  of  danger  ? 

A  few  minutes  of  rapid  descent  down  the  limestone 
slope  led  us  to  a  fine,  small  sprinjj^,  which  dashed  in  a 
score  of  small  streaml(;ts  over  soni(;  rocky  ledi^es  covered 
with  moss  and  ferns.  Here  we  sat  down  in  the  cool 
shade  of  the  cliffs  and  ate  our  lunch.  The  air  was  now 
warm  and  still,  because  we  were  not  far  above  the  valley, 
and  here,  instead  of  seekint^  the  warmth  of  the  sun  as 
we  had  done  on  the  cold  mountain  summit,  a  brief  three- 
quarters  of  an  hour  before,  we  now  enjoyed  the  shade 
affordetl  by  the  rocks  and  forest  near  us.  We  reached 
the  ciialet  in  time  for  a  second  lunch,  and,  as  in  our  moun- 
tain exercise  we  never  found  any  meal  suixmIIuous,  wc 
were  ready  to  present  ourselves  at  the  table  at  once. 

On  the  2Sth  of  July,  W.  arrived  at  the  chalet,  and,  as 
A.  had  likewise  appeared  a  few  days  previously,  our  party 
of  live  was  now  complete. 

One  of  the  first  points  which  we  decided  to  occupy  in 
our  surveying  work  was  a  high  peak  above  Lake  Agnes, 
called  Saint  Piran.  This  mountain  is  very  easy  to  as- 
cend and  on  several  occasions  we  found  ourselves  on  the 
summit  for  one  purpose  or  another.  The  summit  is  far 
above  tree  line  and,  indeed,  almost  reaches  the  upper  limit 
of  any  kind  of  plant  growth.  The  rounded  top  is  crowned 
with  a  great  cairn,  about  ten  feet  high,  which  has  been 
used  as  a  surveying  point  some  time  in  the  past. 


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72 


The  Canatlian  Rockies. 


Durint,^  the  niitlsuininer  months  this  mountain  summit 
is  sparinj^ly  covered  witii  l)right  llowers,  all  of  an  Alpine 
nature,  dwarfed  in  size  and  with  blossoms  enormously 
out  of  proportion  to  the  stems  and  leaves.  There  are 
several  species  of  composites  which  rest  their  heads  of 
yellow  llowers  almost  on  the  i^^round,  and  a  species  of  dwarf 
j^folden-rod  about  thre<'  incht;s  hij^h,  with  only  two  or 
three  small  heads  on  the  summit  of  the  stem  ;  but  the 
most  conspicuous  is  a  kind  of  moss  pink,  which  is  in  regal- 
ity a  mountain  variety  of  phlox.  This  plant  j^rows  in 
spreading-  mats  upon  the  (ground,  with  small,  rii,nd,  awl- 
shaped  leaves  leathered  in  tufts  along  the  stem,  while  here 
and  there  are  small  bright  blossoms  of  a  pink  color.  Mr. 
Hetcher,  who  has  spent  some  time  in  this  region  investi- 
gating the  llowers  and  insects,  once  found  a  plant  of  the 
pink  family  on  this  mountain,  which  proved  by  its  little 
joints  to  be  more  than  one  hundred  years  old. 

One  day  I  came  u[)  here  alone,  and  on  reaching  the 
summit  was  surprised  to  find  Mr.  Bean,  an  entomologist, 
busily  at  work  collecting  butterllies.  Mr.  Bean  has  lived  at 
Laggan  for  a  number  of  years,  and  has  made  a  most  valu- 
able collection  of  the  insects,  especially  the  butterllies  and 
beetles,  of  all  this  region.  Remarkably  enough,  it  is  on  just 
such  spots  as  this  lofty  mountain  summit,  8600  feet  above 
tide,  that  the  rarest  and  most  beautiful  butterllies  assem- 
ble in  great  numbers,  especially  on  bright,  sunny  days. 
Here  they  are  invited  by  the  gaudy  Alpine  llowers,  which 
have  devoted  all  their  plant  energy  to  large  blossoms  and 
brilliant  colors,  so  as  to  attract  the  various  insects  to  them. 


Ali)inc  Butterflies. 


/  .> 


I  was  much  interestt^d  in  Mr.  H(;an's  work,  as  hv  is  the 
first  pioneer  in  this  field  and  has  made  man\'  vahiahh;  (Hs- 
coveries.  He  showed  me  one  butterlly  of  small  size  and 
ciuite  dark  colorin^r,  almost  black,  which  he  said  was  a 
rare  species,  first  discovered  in  polar  rej,dons  !))•  the  Ross 
e.xpedition,  and  never  seen  since  till  it  was  observed  Hit- 
ting- ai)out  on  this  high  peak,  where  arctic  conditions  pre- 
vail in  midsummer.  It  is  wonderful  how  the  various 
species  vary  in  color,  form,  and  habit  ;  some  of  the  but- 
terflies are  very  wild  and  shy,  never  allowing  a  near 
approach  by  the  would-be  collector  ;  others  are  compara- 
tively tame  ;  and  while  some  fly  slowly  and  in  a  straight 
course,  other  species  dart  along  most  rapidly,  constantly 
changing  direction  in  sharp  turns,  and  completely  baffle 
all  attempts  at  pursuit. 

From  the  summit  of  this  mountain  we  discovered  a 
small  lake  in  the  valley  to  the  west,  and,  as  no  one  at  the 
chalet  had  apparently  ever  visited  the  lake,  or  even  known 
of  its  existence,  we  decided  to  make  an  excursion  to  this 
new  region.  Accordingly,  a  few  days  later,  three  of  us 
started  by  the  trail  toward  Lake  Agnes,  and  after  reach- 
ing- a  point  about  600  feet  above  Lake  Louise,  we  turned 
to  the  right  and  endeavored  to  make  a  traverse  around 
the  mountain  till  we  should  gain  the  entrance  to  the 
other  valley.  Our  plan  was  not  very  good  and  the  results 
were  worse.  For  about  two  miles,  the  walkinof  was  alon<'- 
horizontal  ledges  of  hard  quartzite  rock  carpeted  with 
grass  and  heaths,  and  occasionally  made  very  difficult  by 
the  short  dwarf  spruces  and  larches  which,  with  their  tou<di 


< 


J I  \i 


74 


The  Canadian  Rockies. 


clastic  branches..  impL'cifd  our  progress  very  imich.  Thr. 
day  was  unusually  warm,  and  w(!  were  Ljlad  to  n-ach  at 
length  a  small  patch  of  snow,  where  we-  (luenched  our 
thirst  hy  sprinkling  the  snow  on  large  flat  stones,  the  heat 
of  which  melted  enough  to  give  us  a  small  amount  of 
muddy  water.  The  roughness  of  the  mountain  and  the 
nature  of  the  cliffs  now  compelled  us  to  ilescend  near 
a  thousand  feet,  and  thus  lose  all  the  heni.-lit  of  our  first 
ascent.  We  were  constantly  advancing  westward,  hoping 
to  come  at  length  upon  souk;  stream  that  must  descend 
from  the  valley  of  the  little  lake.  Kvery  valley  in  these 
mountains  must  have  some  stream  or  rivulet  to  drain 
awa\  the  water  resulting  fnjm  iIk;  melting  snows  of  winter 
and  the  rains  of  summer,  and  we  were  certain  that,  if  we 
continued  far  enough,  we  would  fmally  iliscover  such  a 
stream.  After  our  tU.scent  we  proceeded  through  a  line 
forest,  densely  luxuriant,  and  in  some  places  much  blocked 
by  prostrate  trees  and  giant  trunks,  mossy  and  half  de- 
cayed. The  air  seemed  unusually  dry,  and  our  tldrst, 
which  had  b(;en  only  in  j)art  appeased  by  our  draught  at 
the  snow-bank,  now  returnetl  in  greater  severity  than 
ever. 

Suddenly  we  heard  a  distant  sound  of  water,  which,  as 
we  approached,  grew  still  louder,  till  it  burst  into  the  full, 
loud  roar  of  a  beautiful  mountain  stnam.  The  water  was 
clear  as  crystal  and  icy  cold,  while  nothing  could  exceed 
the  graceful  beauty  of  the  many  leaps  and  falls  of  the 
stream  as  it  dashed  over  its  rocky  bed.  Here  we  took 
lunch  in   a  shady  nook,  seatt;d  on  some  rocky   ledgc.-s  at 


A  Mountain   lorrcnt. 


75 


the  cdtjo  of  the  water,  siirroundt-cl  on  all  sides  1)\-  deep 
cool  forests.  How  wild  this  little  spot  was  I  'ihoui^h 
the  railroad  was  less  than  two  miles  distant,  probably  no 
white  man  had  ever  seen  this  pleasant  retreat  where  we 
were  restinj;. 
Had  our  ex- 
cursion end- 
ed here,  we 
should  have 
been  repaid 
for  all  the  toil, 
h  e  at,  and 
thirst  we  had 
endured,  by 
this  sintjle  ex- 
perience. 

Nor  was 
our  i)leasure 
over,    for    the 

stream,  we  knew,  would  prove  a  certain  s^uide  to  the  little 
lake,  and,  with  the  anticipation  of  soon  reachini;;  some 
enchantint^  bit  of  scenery  when  we  should  arrive  at  this 
sheet  of  water,  we  pursued  our  way  alonj^-  the  series  of 
falls  and  cascades  by  which  our  new-founil  stream  leapt 
merrily  down  the  mountain  slope.  .Such  is  the  charm  of 
mountain  excursions  in  these  unexplored  and  little  known 
wilds,  for  here,  nature  is  ever  n.-ady  to  please  and  surprise 
the  explorer  by  some  little  lake  or  waterfall  or  a  rare  bit 
of  mountain  scenery. 


A  COOL  RETREAT  IN  THE  FOREST. 


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76 


The  Canadian  Rockies. 


riioujjfh  we  had  stopped  for  kmchcon  at  a  phicc  where 
the  (lashiiiL;  water  made  several  cascades  and  falls  of 
ex(|iiisite  heaiity,  w'v  foiiinl  a  constant  succession  of  sinii- 
l.ir  spots,  where  I  was  ofte-n  tempted  to  delay  loniL,^  en()UL,di 
to  take  photoiL^raphs.  As  the  stream  thus  descended 
rapidly,  we  fountl  steep  rock  led^jt's,  cut  in  Ljiant  steps  and 
overj^^rown  with  thick  moss  till  they  were  almost  con- 
cealed from  view,  on  either  side  of  the  mad  torrent.  These 
afforded  us  an  lasy  method  of  ascent.  The  rocky  forma- 
tion of  the  stream  bed  revealed  many  different  kinds  of 
stone,  con5j[lomerates,  shal(;s,  and  ([uartzites,  in  clearlj- 
marked  strata  all  j^fentl)'  dippinj^^  toward  tlu;  south. 

.\t  lens^th  the  woods  openeil  up  on  either  side,  while, 
simultaneously,  the  slope  decreaseil  in  pitch,  and  the  stream 
ran  over  a  l)ed  of  loose,  rounded  stones  and  houldcTs  in 
the:  bottom  of  a  shallow  ravine.  In  a  moment  more  we 
reached  the  lake,  much  mori-  beautiful  than  our  first  view 
from  St.  IMran  had  led  us  to  expect,  but,  also,  much  smaller 
in  area.  It  was  a  mere  pool,  clear  and  deep,  but  intensely, 
blue  in  color  anti  partially  surrounded  by  a  thin  forest. 
Passing  round  the  shores  and  up  the  valley,  we  found  our- 
selves in  some  beautiful  meadows,  or  rather  moors,  wherein 
streams  of  snow-w^ater  wandered  in  quiet,  sinuous  courses 
and  gathered  at  length  into  the  stream  that  fi.eds  the  lake. 
We  came  on  a  great  numi)er  of  ptarmigan — the  high 
mountain  species  of  grouse  characteristic  of  this  region, — 
which,  with  their  young  broods  hardl\'  able  as  )et  to  fl\-, 
were  the  most  abundant  signs  of  life  that  we  fovmd  in  this 
valley. 


The  Sackllc. 


71 


A  vast  aniphithcairc  or  cinjiu-,  with  lofty,  hare  walls 
near!)-  free;  of  snow,  formed  the  t(!nniiiatioii  of  the  valley. 
We  wcrt!  not  com[)clleil,  however,  to  return  over  the  savie 
route  as  we  hail  come,  for  we  found  an  easy  pass  with  a 
\ox\^  i^entle  slo[)e  of  snow  on  our  left.  This  h.-d  us  over 
th(;  divide;  and,  by  a  loii^'  steep  ilescent,  hrouj^ht  u;'  to 
Lake  A^nes,  when;  \\v.  took  atlvantai,re  of  the  trail  down 
the  mountain  side  to  th(;  chalet. 

Our  attention  was  next  turned  toward  the  exploration 
of  the  mountains  and  valleys  tt)  the  east  of  Lake  Louise, 
which  seemed  to  offer  yjreater  possibilities  of  j^rand  scenery 
than  those  on  the  opposit<i  side.  Accordiuijly.  we  made 
several  visits  to  a  hijijh  upland  park  or  alp,  which  was  in 
reality  a  sort  of  depression  between  (in^at  Mountain  and 
a  lesser  peak  to  the  east.  This  depression  and  the  two 
mountains,  one  vastly  hit^her  than  the  other,  n^semble  in 
outline,  a  saddle  with  pommel  and  crup|)er  and  sujj[j.,^esled 
a  name  for  the  place  which  seems  eminently  approjjriate. 
A  trail  now  leads  to  the  Saddle,  and  the  place  has  proven 
so  popular  amony^  tourists  that  it  is  frequently  in  use. 

The  Saddle  is  a  typical  alp,  or  elevated  mountain 
meadow,  where  lonji^.  rich  jj^rass  waves  in  the  summer 
breezes,  beautified  by  mountain  (lowers,  anemones,  sky- 
blue  forget-me-nots,  and  scarlet  castilleias.  Scattered 
larch  trees  make  a  very  park  of  this  place,  while  the 
great  swelling  slopes  rise  in  graceful  curves  toward  the 
mountain  peaks  on  t;ithtT  side. 

But  this  is  only  the  foreground  to  one  of  the  most 
impressive  views  in  the  Rocky   Mountains.     To  the  east- 


!,*  I 


I  ill 


fU^W 


78 


The  Canadian  Rockies. 


ward  about  three  miles,  on  the  farther  side  of  a  deep  val- 
ley, stands  the  ji^reat  mass  of  Mount  TtMiiple,  the  hijj^htst 
peak  near  the  line  of  travel  in  the  Canadian  Rockii-s. 
This  mountain  stands  alone,  separated  from  the  surround- 
ing peaks  of  the  continental  watershed  to  which  it  does 
not  belong.  Its  summit  is  1 1,658  feet  above  the  sea-level, 
while  the  valleys  on  either  side  are  but  little  more  than 
6000  feet  in  altitude.  As  a  result,  the  mountain  rises 
over  a  mile  above  the  surrounding  valleys,  a  height  which 
approaches  the  maximum  reached  in  the  Canadian 
Rockies.  AH  sides  of  this  mountain,  except  the  south, 
are  so  precipitous  that  they  offer  not  the  slightest  possible 
hope  to  the  mountain  climber,  be  he  ever  so  skilful.  The 
summit  is  crowned  by  a  snow  field  or  glacier  of  small  size 
but  of  remarkable  purity,  since  there  are  no  higher  cliffs  to 
send  down  stones  and  debris  to  the  glacier  and  destroy  its 
beauty.  On  the  west  face,  the  glacier  overhangs  a  preci- 
pice, and,  by  constantly  crowding  forward  and  breaking  off, 
has  formed  a  nearly  vertical  face  of  ice,  which  is  in  one 
place  three  hundred  and  twenty-five  feet  thick.  I  have 
seen  passengers  on  ihe  trains  who  were  surprised  to  learn 
that  the  ice  in  this  very  place  is  anything  more  than  a 
yard  in  depth,  and  who  regarded  with  misplaced  pity  and 
contempt  those  who  have  any  larger  ideas  on  the  subject. 
Avalanches  from  this  hanging  wall  of  ice  are  rather 
rare,  as  the  length  of  the  wall  is  not  great  and  the  glacier 
probably  moves  very  slowly.  I  have  never  had  the  good 
fortune  to  witness  one,  though  the  thunders  of  these  ice 
falls  are  often  heard  by  the  railroad  men  who  live  at  Lag- 


I 


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Moiuif  Temple  from  tJie  Saddle. 


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Mt.  Temple. 


79 


gan,  just  six  miles  distant.  They  must  indeed  be  magnifi- 
cent spectacles,  as  the  ice  must  needs  fall  more  than  4000 
feet  to  reach  the  base  of  the  cliff.  The  compactness  of 
this  single  mountain  may  be  well  shown,  by  saying  that  a 
line  eight  miles  long  would  be  amply  sufficient  to  encircle 
its  base,  notwithstanding  the  fact  that  its  summit  reaches 
so  great  an  altitude. 

The  strata  are  clearly  marked  and  nearly  horizontal, 
though  with  a  slight  upward  dip  on  all  sides,  and  especially 
toward  the  Bow  valley,  so  that  the  general  internal  struc- 
ture of  the  mountain  is  somewhat  bowl-shaped,  a  forma- 
tion very  common  in  mountain  architecture. 

The  surroundings  of  this  great  mountain  are  equally 
grand.  Far  below  in  the  deep  valley,  the  forest-trees 
appear  like  blades  of  grass,  and  in  the  midst  of  them  a 
bright,  foamy  band  of  water  winds  in  crooked  course  like 
a  narrow  thread  of  silver, — in  reality,  a  broad,  deep  stream. 
A  small  lake,  nestling  among  the  dark  forests  at  the  very 
base  of  Mount  Temple,  is  the  most  beautiful  feature  in 
the  whole  view.  The  distance  renders  its  water  a  liark 
ultra-marine  color,  and  sometimes,  when  the  light  is  just  't 
the  proper  angle,  the  ripples  sparkle  on  the  dark  surface 
like  thousands  of  little  diamonds.  On  the  right,  an  awful 
precipice  of  a  near  mountain  looms  up  in  gloomy  gran- 
deur, like  the  cliffs  and  bottomless  abysses  of  the  infernal 
regions  pictured  by  Dore.      This  we  called  Mount  Sheol, 

One  may  ascend  from  the  Saddle  to  the  summit  of 
Great  iMountain  in  an  hour.  Mr.  A.  and  I  ascended  this 
mountain  in  1893,  before  there  was  any  trail  to  assist  us. 


;  :l 


li 


li 


5  I 


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8o 


The  Canadian  Rockies. 


■r 


and  we  had  a  very  hard  time  in  forcinj^^  our  way  throuj^h 
the  tough  underbrush,  while  below  tree  line. 

In  the  course  of  a  great  many  ascents  of  this  peak  I 
have  had  several  interesting  adventures.  The  view  from 
the  summit  is  so  line  that  I  have  made  many  attempts  to 
obtain  good  photographs  from  this  point.  One  day,  after 
a  period  of  nearly  a  week  of  smoky  weather,  the  wind  sud- 
denly shifted,  and,  at  about  ten  o'clock  in  the  morning,  the 
atmosphere  became  so  perfectl)-  clear  that  the  smallest 
details  of  the  distant  mountains  were  distinct  and  sharp, 
as  though  seen  through  a  crystal  medium.  This  was  my 
chance,  and  I  proceeded  at  once  to  take  advantage  of  it. 
I  had  a  large  8x10  camera  and  three  plate-holders,  which 
all  went  into  a  leather  case  especially  made  for  the  pur- 
pose, and  which  was  fitted  out  with  straps,  so  that  it  rested 
between  my  shoulders  and  left  both  hands  free  for  climb- 
ing. It  weighed  altogether  twenty-four  pounds.  With 
lunch  in  my  pocket,  I  set  out  from  the  chalet  with  all 
speed,  so  as  to  arrive  on  the  summit  before  the  wind 
should  change  and  bring  back  the  smoke. 

I  climbed  as  I  had  never  climbed  before,  and  though 
the  day  was  hot  I  reached  the  Saddle  in  an  hour,  and, 
without  a  moment's  pause,  turned  toward  Great  Moun- 
tain and  commenced  the  long  ascent  of  its  rocky  slope. 
In  fifty-five  minutes  more  I  reached  the  summit  and  had 
ascended  3275  feet  above  Lake  Louise.  The  air  was 
still  clear  and  offered  every  promise  of  successful  photo- 
graphs, even  as  I  was  unstrapping  my  camera  and  prepar- 
ing to  set  it  up  for  work.     Suddenly,  the  wind  shifted 


I 


An  Ascent  in  \'ain. 


8 1 


once  more  to  the  south  and  brou^^ht  hack  great  banks  of 
smoke,  which  came  rollinjr  over  the  snowy  crest  of  Mount 
Lefroy  Hke  fog  from  the  sea.  In  fiv(;  minutes  all  was 
lost.  Mount  Temple  appeared  like  a  great,  shadowy 
ghost,  in  the  bluish  haze,  and  the  sun  shone  with  a  pale 
coppery  light.  Such  are  the  trials  and  tribulations  of  the 
climber  in  the  Canadian  Rockies. 

One  day  at  the  end  of  August,  H.  and  I  ascended  this 
mountain  with  our  surveying  instruments.  The  barom- 
eter had  been  steadily  falling  for  several  days,  and  already 
there  were  cumulus  clouds  driving  up  from  the  southwest 
in  long  furrows  of  lighter  and  darker  vapors,  whicii  ob- 
scured the  entire  sky.  A  few  drops  of  rain  on  the  sum- 
mit compelled  me  to  work  rapidly,  but,  as  yet,  there  was 
no  warning  of  what  was  in  store. 

After  all  the  principal  points  were  located  we  packed 
up  our  instruments  and  commenced  a  rapid  descent  to 
the  Saddle.  The  slope  is  of  scree  and  loose  material, 
which  permits  a  rapid  descent  at  a  full  run,  so  that  one 
may  gain  the  Saddle  in  about  fifteen  minutes.  Arriving 
there  I  paused  to  get  a  drink  at  a  small  stream  under 
some  great  boulders,  fed  by  a  wasting  snow-bank.  H. 
had  gone  off  toward  the  other  side  of  the  pass  to  get  his 
rifle,  which  he  had  left  on  the  way  up. 

Suddenly  I  heard  a  rushing  sound,  and,  looking  up, 
saw  a  cloud  of  dust  on  the  mountain  side  and  the  trees 
swaying  violently  in  a  strong  wind.  A  mass  of  curlincr 
vapor  formed  rapidly  against  the  cliffs  of  Great  Moun- 
tain, and  a  dull  moaning  sound,  as  of  violent  wind,  seemed 

6 


< 


h 


82 


The  Canadian  Rockies. 


1 


i4l 


to  fill  the  air.  The  sky  rapidly  darkened  and  black  clouds 
formed  overhead,  while  below  them  the  thin  wisps  of  scud 
rushed  alontj  and  seemed  white  and  pale  by  contrast. 

I  was  no  sooner  up  on  my  feet  than  the  approaching 
blast  was  upon  me,  and  with  such  unexpected  force  did 
it  come  that  I  was  laid  low  at  the  first  impulse.  My  hat 
went  sailing  off  into  space  and  was  never  seen  more. 
The  first  shock  over,  I  gained  my  feet  again  and  started 
to  find  H.  The  air  changed  in  temperature  with  phe- 
nomenal rapidity,  and  from  being  warm  and  muggy,  in 
the  space  of  about  five  minutes  it  grew  exceedingly  cold, 
and  threatened  snow  and  hail. 

Though  everything  betokened  an  immediate  storm 
and  a  probable  drenching  for  us,  I  had  time  to  notice  a 
magnificent  sight  on  Mount  Temple.  As  yet  there  were 
no  clouds  on  the  summit,  but,  as  1  looked,  my  attention 
was  called  to  a  little  fieck  of  vapor  resting  against  the 
precipitous  side  of  the  mountain,  half-way  between  sum- 
mit and  base.  So  suddenly  had  it  appeared  that  I  could 
not  tell  whether  it  had  grown  before  my  eyes  or  was  there 
before.  From  this  small  spot  the  vapors  grew  and  ex- 
tended rapidly  in  both  directions,  U  a  long,  flat  cloud 
stretched  out  more  than  a  mile,  when  1  last  saw  it.  The 
vapors  seemed  to  form  out  of  the  very  air  where  a 
moment  before  all  had  been  perfectly  clear. 

Realizing  that  the  sooner  we  started  the  better  chance 
we  should  have  of  escape,  we  flew  rather  than  ran  down 
the  trail,  and  were  only  overtaken  by  the  storm  as  we 
approached  the  lake.     The  temperature  had  dropped  so 


,    * 


A  Siuklcn  Storm. 


83 


rapidly  that  a  cold  rain  and  damp  snow  were  fallinir  when 
we  reached  the  lake.  The  boat  h.i'l  drifted  from  its 
mooriny;s,  and  was  cauijht  on  a  sunken  Iol;  some  distance 
from  the  shore.  I  waded  out  on  a  sunken  loj;',  where  I 
expected  at  any  moment  to  slip  from  the  slimy  surface 
and  take  an  involuntary  bath  in  tlu;  lake.  The  boat  was 
regained  by  the  time  H.  had  arrived  a  few  minutes  later 
and  we  reached  the  chalet  thoroui^hly  drenched. 

Such  sudden  storms  in  the  Canadian  Rockies  are  rather 
rare,  and  are  almost  always  indicate-d  in  advance  by  a 
falling  barometer  and  lowering  sky.  1  have  never  at  any 
other  time  observed  such  a  sudden  fall  in  temperature, 
nor  seen  the  clouds  form  instantaneously  far  down  on  the 
mountain  side  as  they  had  done  in  this  storm.  The  sud- 
den rush  of  wind,  the  curling  vapors,  and  Hying  scud 
afforded  a  magnificent  spectacle  on  the  Saddle,  and  one 
that  was  well  worth  the  drenching  we  suffered  in  penalty. 


'     I 


\  ^\ 


.ili 


CHAPTER   VI. 

Paradise  Valley — The  Miirc  Glacier— Air  Castla — Climhir.i:^  to  the 
Col — Dark  Jce  Caverns—  Mountain  Sickness — Granticur  of  the  A'och- 
Precipices  on  Mt.  l.ejroy— Summit  of  the  Ccl  at  Last — .•/  Glorious  I'ision 
oj  a  New  ami Peauiiful  I'alley — //  Temple  of  Nature — Sudden  Chaui^e 
oj  ]\'eathcr-~  Temptation  to  JLxplore  the  A'eic  I'alley  — A  J'recipitate 
Dt scent — Sudden  i'ransilion  front  .Ire tie  to  Temperate  Conditions — De- 
li^htful  Surroundini^s — Weary  Tollowers—Orertaken  hy  Nij^ht — A 
Bivouac  in  t/ie  /-'or est — Tire  in  the  Forest — Indian  Sarcasm. 


f-np] 


'HE  valley  to  the  cast  of  Lake  Louise  and  parallel 
to  it,  we  named  Paradise  Valley,  on  account  of 
the  elegant  park-like  effect  of  the  whole  place 
and  the  beauty  of  tiie  vegetation.  Our  first  (entrance 
into  this  region  and  the  discovery  of  the  valley  were 
partially  accidental.  In  fact,  we  were  making  an  ex- 
pedition for  the  purpose  of  finding  a  practicable  route 
up  Hazel  Peak,  on  the  day  when  we  were  diverted  from 
our  original  plan,  and  tempted  to  explore  this  hitherto 
unseen  part  of  the  mountains. 

It  came  about  somewhat  in  this  manner.  On  the  30th 
of  July,  all  but  E.,  who  was  still  lame  '•"om  his  accident, 
left  the  chalet  carrying  rope  and  ice-r\js,  with  the  inten- 
tion of   making  explorations  on   the  southern  slopes  of 

Hazel  Peak.      Our  party,  number!   g  four,  left  the  chalet 

84 


'■ 


The  Mitre  (ilacicr. 


«5 


at  a  little  after  eij^ht  o'clock,  with  the  intention  of  retiirninsj^ 
no  later  than  five  in  th(!  afternoon.  Our  equipment,  be- 
side our  Alpine  implements,  consisted  of  a  camera,  a  pris- 
matic compass,  and  that  which  proved  no  less  n(!cessary, 
our  lunches  and  a  whiskey  flask. 

Taking  the  boat,  we  rowed  to  the  other  end  of  the  lake, 
and  then  followed  the  same  route  as  our  party  of  three 
had  taken  on  the  disastrous  expedition  of  July  13th,  till 
we  came  to  the  junction  of  the  two  glacier  streams.  Here 
we  turned  toward  the  east,  and  followed  the  moraine  of 
the  wide  glacier  between  Mount  Lefroy  and  H:\7a-\  Peak. 

The  whole  valley  between  was  floored  by  a  smooth, 
nearly  level  glacier,  about  a  half  mile  wide  and  perhaps 
two  miles  long.  Presently  we  were  compelled  to  get  on 
the  ice  as  the  moraine  disappeared  ;  so  we  put  on  the 
rope,  and  advanced  with  more  caution.  It  was  not  long, 
however,  before  W.,  who  was  next  to  last  in  our  line, 
broke  through  the  bridge  of  a  crevasse,  despite  our  care, 
and  sank  to  his  shoulders.  This  member  of  our  party 
was  not  versed  in  the  art  of  snow-craft,  and  to  him,  every 
occurrence  common  to  mountain  experiences,  and  Alpine 
methods  of  procedure,  were  alike  novel  and  terrible.  In 
consequence,  this  accident  fell  more  severely  on  him,  but 
fortunately,  he  was  extricated  almost  immediately  by  the 
use  of  the  rope. 

At  the  head  of  our  valley  was  a  remarkable,  symmetrical 
mountain,  resembling  in  general  outline  a  bishop's  mitre. 
From  the  ghicier  and  snow-fields  where  we  were  walking, 
there  rose  on  either  side  of  the  Mitre,  steep  snow-slopes, 


it 


.!    ' 


fi' 


< 


■I 


86 


The  Canadian  Rockies. 


which  t«!rminat('il  in  lofty  co/s  about  8500  U'A'X  above 
sea-level.  That  on  tlu;  nor'-h  side  of  th(;  Mitre  was  cx- 
ceedinjjfly  steep,  and  was  rendered  inacc(;ssil)le  by  reason  of 
a  great  crevasse,  exttMuling  from  the  prt.-cipices  on  either 
side,  cleai  across  the  snow-slope.  This  crevasse  must 
have  been  nearly  twenty-five  yards  in  width  and  of  ^jreat 
dejjth.  At  one  side  ther(!  still  remained  a  thin  bridjj^e  of 
snow,  suspended,  as  it  were,  in  mid-air  over  the  awful 
chasm,  as  though  to  tempt  climbers  on  to  their  instant 
destruction,  or  j)erhaps  to  a  lingering  death  from  cold 
and  hung(;r. 

The  pass  on  our  left  appeared  the  more  propitious  and 
seenK.'d  to  offer  a  possible  route  to  the  summit  of  the 
diviile.  We  were  anxious  to  get  a  view  into  the  valley 
beyond,  even  though  it  were  but  for  a  few  moments.  The 
unknown  regions  on  the  other  side  of  the  pass  had  long 
been  for  me  a  favorite  pleasure-ground  of  the  imagination. 
Some  fate  had  hitherto  denied  us  any  idea  of  the  place 
beyond  the  vaguest  suggestions.  Several  ascents,  or  par- 
tial ascents,  of  mountains  on  all  sides  of  this  unknown 
valley,  had  revealed  the  outlines  of  the  surrounding  moun- 
tains, but  some  intervening  cliff  or  mountain  range  had 
always,  witli  persistent  and  exasperating  constancy,  shut 
off  all  but  the  most  unsatisfactory  glimpses.  Starting 
from  these  sul)stantial  foumlations  of  reality,  my  imagina- 
tion had  built  up  a  wide  circular  valley,  surrounded  on  all 
sides  by  curious  mountains  of  indefinite  and  ever  chang- 
ing outline  and  position.  The  picture  always  appeared 
in  a  gloomy,  weird  light,  as  though  under  a  cloudy  sky, 


\ 


I 


' 


Air  C.istlcs.  S; 

or  while  l\\v.  sun  was  near  totally  cclipsiHl.  Hy  sohk^ 
curious  analojj^y,  tliis  faint  illuiuination  was  similar  to  that 
which  wc  always  associate  with  tho  (irst  creation  of  land 
and  water  ;  or  far  back  in  the  ireolo^ic  a^t's.  wIumi  strange 
and  hideous  re|)tiles, — some  llyii^Lj  in  the  murky  air,  some 
creeping  amiil  the  swami)y  j^^rowths  of  cjcads,  calamites, 
and  t,ri(,fantic  tree  ferns,  excite  a  strange  thrill  of  pleasure 
and  awe  combined,  as  though  the  soul  were  dinil)'  per- 
ceiving- some  n(;w  nn'elation  of  the  universe,  though  but 
vaguely.  In  this  weird,  gloomy  valley  I  wandered  careless, 
in  my  imagination,  many  days  and  at  many  times,  among 
forests  infested  by  strange,  wild  animals,  harmless  like 
those  of  Eden,  and  by  the  shores  of  ever  new,  (!ver  chang- 
ing lakes  and  rivers. 

So  strong  had  this  picture  become  that  I  felt  the  most 
Intense  anxiety  to  succeed  in  reaching  the  toj)  of  our  pass, 
and  gain  at  length  a  view  of  the  reality,  even  at  the  risk 
of  shattering  these  pleasant  air  castles,  and  annihilating,  in 
a  single  instant,  one  of  my  best  mental  pleasure-grounds. 

There  were  many  dangers  to  be  risked,  however,  and 
many  obstacles  to  be  overcome  before  this  advantage 
might  be  gained.  The  steep  slope  was  rendered  formi- 
dable by  reason  of  many  great  schrimds,  or  horizontal 
crevasses,  caused  by  the  ice  of  the  glacier  below,  moving 
downward.  In  the  intense  cold  of  winter  the  moving  ice 
becomes  rigid  and  nearly  stagnant,  while  the  drifting 
snows  accumulate,  so  as  partly  to  tdl  these  rents  in  the  ice 
and  bridge  them  over  by  cornices  built  out  from  one  side 
or  the   other.     When   the  increasine  warmth  of  summer 


k. 


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M 


'  i 


88 


The  Canadian  Rockies. 


\ 


causes  the  ice  to  become  plastic  and  to  niovj;  mon?  rapidly, 
these  rents  grow  wider  and  the  sno\v-l)ridt^(.'s  melt  away 
and  eventually  fall  into  the  crevasses  so  as  to  leave  impas- 
sable chasms,  dang^erous  to  approach.  Fortunately,  it  was 
not  so  late  in  the  season  that  all  the  bridges  were  broken 
down,  else  we  should  have  been  completely  defeated,  for, 
on  either  side,  the  glacier  was  hemmed  in  by  dangerous 
rock  precipices.  The  south  side  of  the  glacier,  moreover, 
was  subject  to  frequent  rock  falls  from  the  disintegrating 
cliffs  of  the  Mitre.  As  we  advanced  over  the  extensive 
nt've,  the  slope  increased  gradually  but  constantly,  and 
soon  became  so  steep  that  steps  liad  to  be  cut,  and  great 
care  was  necessary  not  to  slip.  We  v.roosed  some  of  the 
schrunds  by  bridges  of  snow,  where  it  was  necessary  to 
proceed  with  great  caution,  and,  by  sliding  the  feet  along, 
apply  the  weight  gently,  lest  the  bridge  should  break 
through.  We  passed  round  others  by  walking  along  the 
lower  edge  or  lip  of  the  crevasse,  which  gave  us  a  splendid 
but  almost  terrnying  view  of  the  gloomy  caverns,  extend- 
ing down  through  the  snow  and  ice  to  unknown  depths. 
The  dark-blue  roofs  of  these  crevasses  were  hung  with 
dripping  icicles,  while  from  far  below  could  be  heard  the 
sound  of  rushing,  sub-glacial  streams.  Three  hours  of 
this  slow,  toilsome  work  were  necessary  to  gain  moo  feet 
in  altitude.  We  were  now  more  than  8000  feet  above  the 
sea,  and  the  atmosphere  was  raw  and  cold.  Large  damp 
flakes  of  snow  and  granular  hail  fell  occasionally  from  a 
cloudy  sky,  silently  and  swiftly,  through  a  quiet  atmos- 
phere.    The  whole  horizon  was  bounded  by  high  moun- 


ts 


I 


^m 


;  t 


Desolate  Surroundings. 


89 


tains,  covered  with  jrlaciers  and  patches  of  snow,  altooethc  r 
barren  and  destitute  of  vegetation.      Not  a  siny-h;  tn-e  or 
shrub,  nor  even  a  grassy  slope  at  the  far  end  of  tin,-  great 
amphitheatr(^  of  mountain  walls  by  which  we  were  h(,'niiiied 
in,  relieved  the  stern,  cold  monotony  of  the  scene.     .So  far 
as  we  might  judge  by  our  surroundings,  we  might  have 
been  exploring  the  lonely,  desolate  mountains  of  .Spitz- 
bergen,  or  some  distant  polar  land,  where  frf)st  and  winter 
rule  perpetual.      Our  progress  up  the  slope  of  the  gla- 
cier was  very  slow,  as  each  step  had  to  b(-  cut  out  with 
the  ice-axe.     The  pitch  was  so  steep  that  a  misstep  might 
have  resulted  in  our  all  sliding  down  and  making  further 
exploration  of    the  scln-iiniis   below.      The    whole    party 
was,  in  consequence,  more  or  less  affected  by  these  cheer- 
less circumstances,  and  became  much  J"press(xl  in  spirit. 
As,  however,  die  condition   of  the  body  is   in   great  part 
responsible  for  all  mental  and  moral  ailments,  so  it  was 
in  our  case.      Had  we  been   walking  rapidly,  so  that  the 
circulation  of  the   blood  had  becMi   vigorous  and  strong- 
both  mind  and  body  would  have  been  in  good  condition, 
and  the   cold  air,  the  snow,  and  bleak  mountains  would 
have  been  powerless  to  discourage.      It  is  always  at  such 
times   that  mountain  climbers   begin   to    ask    themselves 
whether  the  results  are  worth  the  efforts  to  attain   them. 
Any  one  who  has  climbed  at  all,  as  we  l(;arn   by  reading 
the  experiences  of  moimtaineers,  at  many  times  has  said 
to  himself:  "  If  I  get  home  safel)  this  time  I  shall  never 
again    venture   from  the  comforts  of  civilization."     The 
ancients,  when   in  the  thick  of  battle,  or  at  the  point  of 


idi 


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wmwm 


go 


The  Canadian  Rockies. 


i 


shipwreck,  were  accustomed  to  vow  temples  to  the  i^ods 
should  they  be  kind  enough  to  save  them,  but  they  usu- 
ally forjTot  their  oaths  when  safely  home.  Mountaineers 
in  like  manner  forget  their  resolves,  under  the  genial 
influence  of  rest  and  food,  when  they  reach  camp. 

After  many  disappointments,  we  at  last  saw  the  true 
summit  of  our  pass  or  co/  not  far  distant,  and  only  a  few 
hundred  feet  above  us.  A  more  gentle  slope  of  snow, 
free  of  crevasses,  led  to  it  from  our  position. 

Now  that  we  were  confident  of  success,  we  took  this 
opportunity  to  rest  by  a  ledge  of  rocks  which  appeared 
above  che  surrounding  snow  field.  Here  we  -egained 
confidence  along  with  a  momentar)  rest. 

Nothing  could  surpass  the  awful  grandeur  of  Mount 
Lefroy  opposite  us.  Its  great  cliffs  were  of  solid  rock, 
perpendicular  and  sheer  for  about  2500  feet,  and  then 
sloping  back,  at  an  angle  of  near  fifty  degrees,  to  heights 
which  were  shut  off  from  our  view  by  the  trreat  han<dni>- 
glacier.  We  could  just  catch  a  glimpse  of  its  dark  pre- 
cipices, where  the  mountain  wall  continued  into  the 
unknown  valley  eastward,  through  a  gorge  or  rent  in 
the  cliffs  south  of  the  Mitre.  A  magnificent  avalanche 
fell  from  Mount  Lefroy  as  we  were  resting  from  our 
P'  *ere  exertion,  and  held  our  admiring  attention  for  sev- 
eral moments.  Another  descended  from  the  Mitre  and 
consisted  wholly  of  rocks,  which  made  i:  sharp  cannonade 
as  they  struck  the  glacier  below,  and  showed  us  the  danger 
to  which  we  should  have  been  exposed  had  we  ascended 
on  the  farther  side  of  the  slope. 


Discovery  of  a  Beautiful  Valley. 


91 


Havinjr  roped  up  once  more,  we  proceeded  rapidly 
toward  the  summit  of  the  col,  beini^  urged  on  by  a  strong 
desire  to  see  what  wonders  the  view  eastward  might  have 
in  store.  This  is  tiie  most  pleasurably  exciting  experi- 
ence in  mountaineering — the  approach  to  the  summit  of 
a  pass.  The  conquest  of  a  new  mountain  is  likewise 
very  interesting,  but  usually  the  scene  unfolds  gradually 
during  the  last  few  minutes  of  an  ascent.  On  reaching 
the  summit  of  a  pass,  however,  a  curtain  is  removed,  as 
it  were,  at  once,  and  a  new  region  is  unfolded  whereby 
the  extent  of  the  view  is  doubled  as  by  magic. 

We  were,  moreover,  anxious  to  learn  whether  a  de- 
scent into  this  valley  would  be  possible,  after  we  should 
arrive  on  the  col.  We  were  alternately  tormented  by  the 
fear  of  finding  impassable  precipices  of  rock,  or  glaciers 
rent  by  deep  crevasses,  and  cheered  on  by  the  hope  of  an 
easy  slope  of  snow  or  scree,  whereby  a  safe  descent  would 
be  offered,, 

Proceeding  cautiously,  as  we  approached  the  very  sum- 
mit, to  avoid  the  danger  of  an  overhanging  cornice  of  snow, 
we  had  no  sooner  arrived  on  the  highest  part  than  we  be- 
he'i  :!  valley  of  surpassing  beauty,  wide  and  beautiful,  with 
;. !C'*  .i.'aig  open  meadows  and  rich  forests.  Here  and 
I'le  .;  »"('  to  be  seen  streams  and  brooks  spread  out  be- 
fore OLT  -aze,  clearly  as  though  on  a  map,  and  traceable 
to  their  sources,  some  from  glaciers,  o,'hers  from  'springs 
or  melting  snow-drifts.  In  the  open  meadows,  oividently 
luxuriantly  clothed  with  grass  and  other  .small  plants, 
though  from  our  great  height  it  w.is  impossible  to  tell,  the 


IN 


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mms. 


92 


The  Canadian  Rockies. 


streams  meandered  about  in  sinuous  channels,  in  some 
places  formino;-  a  perfect  network  of  watercourses.  In 
other  parts,  tlie  streams  were  temporarily  concealed  by 
heavy  forests  of  dark  coniferous  trees,  or  more  extensively, 
by  liqht  s^roves  of  larch. 

This  beautiful  valley,  resembling  a  park  by  reason  of  its 
varied  and  pleasing  landscape,  was  closely  invested  on  the 
south  b\-  a  half  circle  of  rugged,  high  mountains  rising  pre- 
cipitously from  a  large  glacier  at  their  united  bases.  This 
wall  of  mountains,  contir,  ■v'-  ilniost  uninterruptedly 
around,  hemmed  in  the  fartht  ;  of  the  valley  and  ter- 

minated, so  far  as  we  could  see,  m  a  mountain  with  twin 
summits  of  nearly  equal  height,  about  one  mile  apart. 
'I  he  limestone  strata  of  this  mountain  were  nearly  per- 
fectly horizontal,  and  had  been  sculptured  by  rain  and 
frost  into  an  endless  variety  of  minarets,  spires,  and  pinna- 
cles. These,  crowning  the  summits  of  ridges  and  slopes 
with  ever  changing  angles,  as  though  they  represented 
alternating  walls  and  roofs  of  some  great  cathedral,  all 
contributed  to  give  this  mountain,  with  its  elegant  contours 
and  outlines,  the  most  artistically  perfect  assemblage  of 
forms  that  nature  can  offer  throughout  the  range  of  moun- 
tain architecture. 

On  the  north  side  of  this  mountain,  as  though,  here, 
nature  had  striven  to  outdo  herself,  there  rose  from  the 
middle  slopes  a  number  of  graceful  spires  or  pinnacles, 
perhaps  200  or  300  feet  in  height,  slender  and  tapering, 
which,  having  escaped  the  irresistible  force  of  moving 
glaciers  and  destructive  earthquakes,  through  the  duration 


I 'J 


I !  1  '•' , 


Discovery  of  Paradise  Valley. 


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A  Temple  of  Nature. 


93 


of  thousands  of  years,  while  the  elements  contiini(;cl  th(,'ir 
slow  but  constant  work  of  disinteirration  and  tlissolution, 
now  presented  these  strantj^e  monuments  of  an  a{,'-t!less 
past.  Compared  with  these  needles,  the  obelisks  and 
pyramids  of  Ei,^ypt,  the  palaces  of  Yucatan,  or  the 
temples  of  India  are  younj;-,  even  in  their  anticpiity. 
When  those  ancient  peoples  w(;re  buildinj^s  nature  had 
nearly  comi)leted  her  work   her*;. 

Beyond  the  nearer  ranj^e  of  mountains  could  be 
seen,  throutjh  two  depressions,  a  more  distant  rans^^e, 
remarkably  steep  and  rugjjfed,  while  one  particularly 
hiijh  peak  was  adorned  with  extensive  snow-fields  and 
larire  trlaciers. 

Almost  simultaneously  with  our  arrival  on  the  summit 
of  the  pass,  a  great  change  took  place  in  the  weather. 
The  wind  veered  about,  and  the  clouds,  wliich  hitherto 
had  formed  a  monotonous  gray  covering,  now  began  to 
separate  rapidly  and  dissolve  away,  allowing  the  blue  sky 
to  appear  in  many  places.  Long,  light  shafts  of  sunlight 
forced  a  passage  through  these  rents,  and,  as  the  clouds 
moved  along,  trailed  bright  areas  of  illumination  over  the 
valley  below,  developing  rich  coloring  and  pleasing  con- 
trasts of  light  and  shade  over  a  landscape  ideally  perfect. 

This  beautiful  scene,  which  has  taken  some  time  to  de- 
scribe, even  superficially,  burst  on  our  view  so  suddenly, 
that  for  a  moment  the  air  was  rent  with  our  exclamations 
and  shouts,  while  those  who  had  lately  been  most  depressed 
in  spirit  were  now  most  vehement  in  their  expressions  of 
pleasure.     We  spent  a  half-hour  on  the  pass  and  divided 


I! 


11 


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94 


The  Canadian  Rockies. 


m 


up  our  work,  so  that  while  one  took  photoj^rraphs  of  the 
scenery,  luiotiier  noted  ilown  tlie  angles  of  prominc-nt 
points  for  surveyini^f  purposes,  while  the  rest  constructed 
a  high  cairn  of  stones,  to  commemorate  our  ascent  of  the 
pass. 

Whatever  may  have  been  the  mental  processes  by  which 
the  result  was  achieved,  we  found  all  unanimous  in  a  de- 
cision to  go  down  into  the  new  valley  and  explore  it,  what- 
ever might  result.  The  cold,  desolate  valley  on  which  we 
now  turned  our  backs,  but  which  was  the  route  home- 
wards, was  less  attractive  than  this  unknown  region  of  so 
many  pleasant  features,  where  even  the  weather  seemed 
changed  as  we  approached  it. 

It  was  now  already  two-thirty  r.  m.  We  were  8400 
feet  above  sea-level  and  at  an  unknown  distance  from 
Lake  Louise,  should  we  attempt  the  new  route.  An- 
other great  mountain  range  might  have  to  be  passed 
before  we  could  arrive  at  the  chalet,  for  aught  we  knew. 
There  were,  however,  fully  six  hours  left  of  daylight, 
and  we  hoped  to  reach  the  chalet  before  nightfall. 

A  long  snow-slope  descended  from  where  we  were 
standing,  far  into  the  valley.  This  we  prepared  to  descend 
by  glissading,  all  roped  together,  on  account  of  W.,  who 
was  this  day  enjoying  his  first  experience  in  mountain 
climbing.  An  unkind  fate  had  selected  him,  earlier  in  the 
day,  to  break  through  the  bridge  of  the  crevasse  and  now 
doomed  him  to  still  further  trouble,  for  we  had  no  sooner 
got  well  under  way  in  our  descent,  before  his  feet  flew  out 
from  under  him,  and  he  started  to  slide  at  such  a  remark- 


LlK 


*    3W 


A  Prcci|)it;itc  Descent. 


95 


abl(!  rate  that  the  man  Ixthinil  was  jerked  violentl)-  by  th«i 
r()[)e,  ami,  falling-  headloiitr,  lost  his  ice-axe  at  the  satm; 
time.  With  consternation  ilepictcnl  in  every  feature,  our 
two  friends  came  rolling-  and  slidin_i;  down,  with  ever  in- 
creasinj^  spec^l,  spinninijj  round — now  one  leading;,  now  the 
other,  sometimes  head  tlrst,  sometimes  feet  first.  The 
shock  of  the  onconiers  was  too  much  for  the  rest  of  us  to 
withstand,  and  even  with  our  ice-axes  well  set  in  the  soft 
snow,  we  all  slid  some  distance  in  a  bunch.  At  lens^th 
our  axes  had  the  desired  effect  and  the  procession  came 
to  a  standstill.  It  reciuired  some  time  to  unwind  the  tan- 
gled ropes  wherein  we  were  enmeshed  like  flies  in  a 
spider's  wv.h,  owing  to  the  complicated  figures  we  had 
executed  in  our  descent.  Meanwhile,  a  committee  of  one 
was  appointed  to  go  back  and  pick  up  the  scattered  hats, 
ice-axes,  and  such  other  wreckage  as  could  be  found. 

The  end  of  the  descent  was  accomplished  in  a  better 
manner,  and  in  less  than  ten  minutes  we  were  1500 
feet  below  the  pass.  A  short,  steep  scramble  down 
some  rocky  ledges,  where  strong  alder  bushes  gave  good 
support  for  lowering  ourselves,  brought  us  in  a  few  min- 
utes to  the  valley  bottom.  At  this  level  the  air  was  warm 
and  pleasant  as  we  entered  an  open  grove  of  larch  and 
spruce  trees.  In  the  last  quarter  of  an  hour  we  had 
passed  through  all  the  gradations  from  an  arctic  climate, 
where  the  cold  air,  the  great  masses  of  perpetual  snow, 
and  bleak  rocks,  made  a  wintry  picture,  to  the  genial  cli- 
mate of  the  temperate  zone,  where  were  fresh  and  beau- 
tiful meadows  enlivened  by  bright  flowers,  gaudy  insects. 


n 


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I 


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96 


The  (Canadian  Rockies. 


and  th(!  smallt-r  moiiiitain  aniiiuils.  Humholdt  has  truly 
said  :  "  In  tlu;  phj-sical  as  in  the  moral  world,  tlu;  contrast 
of  effects,  tiur  coinparison  o(  what  is  powerful  and  nw.n- 
acinj^  with  what  is  soft  and  peaceful,  is  a  never  failing 
source  of  our  [)l(!asures  and  our  emotions." 

We  followed  a  small,  cl(;ar  stntani  of  an  unusual  na- 
ture. In  some  places  it  j^lided  quietl)"  anil  swiftly  over  a 
slopinjr  floor  of  solid  stont,-,  polished  and  j^^roovitd  in  some 
past  age  by  glaciers.  A  little  farth(;r  on,  the  character  of 
the  mountain  stream  sufferinl  a  change,  and  the  water 
now  found  its  way  in  many  sharp,  angular  turns  and  nar- 
row courses  by  large  square  blocks  of  stone,  for  the  most 
part  covered  by  a  thick  carpet  of  moss,  while  between 
were  deep  pools  and  occasional  miniature  waterfalls. 

Pursuing  our  way  with  rapid  steps,  for  we  were  like 
adventurers  in  some  fairy-land  of  nature,  where  every 
moment  reveals  new  wonders,  we  came  at  length  to  an 
opening  in  the  forest,  where  the  stream  dashed  over  some 
rocky  ledges,  that  frost  and  age  had  rent  asunder  and 
thrown  down  in  wild  disorder,  till  the  stream  bed  was 
fairly  strewn  with  giant  masses  of  sandstone.  Some  of 
these  colossal  fragments  were  apparently  just  balanced  on 
sharp  edges,  and  seemed  ever  ready  to  fall  from  their  in- 
secure positions.  The  variety  and  novelty  of  form  pre- 
sented by  the  falling  water,  as  the  streamlets  divided  here 
and  united  there,  some  over,  some  imder,  the  stone 
bridges  accidentally  formed  in  this  confusion  of  nature, 
aroused  our  greatest  admiration. 

As  we  advanced  down  the  valley  towards  the  north, 


Weill \    I •()! lowers. 


07 


the  outlines  of  tUv.  mountains  chanjj^i-'d,  and  we  recoj^nized 
at  leiij^til  the  bare  slopes  of  the  southern  side  of  Mount 
'r('ni[)le,  which  at  first  seemed  to  us  a  stransj^e  mountain. 
Meanwhile,  we  had  approacheil  very  near  to  the  base  of 
the  beautiful  mountr.'n  with  th(t  doubh;  peak  and  the 
many  pinnacles,  and  found  that  proximity  did  not  rciuler 
it  less  attractive. 

The  stream  which  we  followed  had  been  joined  by 
many  other  rivulets  and  sprini^s  till  it  i^rew  to  be  wide 
and  deep.  At  length  a  muildy  torn.'nt.  direct  from  the 
glacier  at  the  head  of  the  valley,  added  new  volunu;  and 
polluted  the  crystal  snow-waters  of  the  stream  which  we 
had  followed  from  its  very  source. 

P^or  many  hours  we  followed  the  banks  of  the  small 
river  formed  by  these  two  branches,  and  fouiul  it  an  al- 
most continuous  succession  of  rapids,  constantly  descend- 
ing, and  with  a  channel  swinging  to  right  and  left,  every 
few  hundred  yards,  in  a  winding  course. 

H.  and  I  led  the  way,  and  frequently  lost  sight  of  the 
others  who  were  beginning  to  tire  and  preferred  a  slower 
pace.  We  waited  on  several  occasions  for  them  to  come 
up  with  us,  though  it  seemed  as  if  we  should  no  more  than 
reach  the  chalet  before  nightfall,  even  by  putting  forth 
our  best  efforts. 

About  6.30  o'clock  we  came  to  a  swampy  tract,  where 
the  trees  grew  sparingly,  and  gave  the  appearance  of  a 
meadow  to  an  expanse  of  nearly  level  ground,  covered 
with  fine  grass  and  sedges.  Here,  after  a  long  wait  for 
our  friends,  who   had   not   been  seen  for  some  time,  we 


H 


is> 


( 


i' 


11 


f 
I 


h  1^ 


98 


The  Canadian  Rockies. 


decided  to  write  a  note  on  a  piece  of  paper  and  attach  it 
to  a  pole  in  a  conspicuous  place  where  they  could  not  fail 
to  see  it.  Th*'  ir.osquitoes  were  so  numerous  that  it  was 
almost  impossible  to  remain  quiet  lontr  enough  to  write  a 
few  words  explaining  our  plans.  On  the  top  of  the  stick 
we  placed  a  small  splinter  of  wood  in  a  slit,  and  made  it 
point  in  the  exact  direction  we  intended  to  take. 

Having  accomplished  these  duties  in  the  best  manner 
possible,  we  set  out  for  the  chalet  with  all  speed,  as  we 
did  not  relish  the  idea  of  making  a  bivouac  in  the  woods 
and  spending  a  cheerless  night  after  our  long  fast.  It 
was  evident  that  we  were  now  at  the  outlet  of  the  valley, 
and  that,  unless  we  should  encounter  very  rough  country 
with  much  fallen  limber,  our  chances  were  irood  for  reach- 
ing  the  chalet  before  darkness  rendered  travelling  impos- 
sible. It  was  likewise  important  to  reach  the  lake  on 
account  of  those  at  tlie  chalet,  v.ho  might  think  that  the 
whole  party  had  met  with  some  accident  on  the  mountain, 
unless  some  of  us  turned  up  that  night. 

We  ciccordingly  walked  as  fast  as  our  waning  strength 
permitted,  and  after  surmounting  a  ridge  about  800  feet 
high,  which  formed  part  of  the  lower  slopes  of  Saddle 
Mountain,  we  found  no  great  difficult)-  in  forcing  a  pas- 
sage through  the  forest  for  several  miles,  when  we  came 
upon  the  trail  to  tlie  Saddle.  We  reached  the  lake  at  8. 15 
P.M.,  'Viid  after  shouting  in  vain  for  some  one  to  send  over 
a  boat  we  for  led  the  stream  and  entered  the  chalet,  where 
a  sumptuous  repast  was  ordered  foithwith,  and  to  which 
we  did  ample  justice  after  our  walk  of  twelve  hours  duration. 


A  HivoiKic  in  the  I'\)rLst. 


99 


Our  less  fortunate  friends  did  not  appear  till  the  n(!Xt 
niorninjr.  They  discovered  our  note,  but  decided  not  to 
take  our  route,  as  they  thought  it  safer  to  follow  the  stream 
till  it  joined  the  Bow  River.  They  had  not  proceeded 
far,  however,  beyond  the  place  where  we  had  left  the  note, 
before  they  became  entangled  in  a  large  area  of  fallen 
timber  and  prostrate  trees,  wJK^re  they  were  ovc;rtaken 
by  night  and  compelled  to  giv(;  up  all  hope  of  reaching 
Lake  Louise  till  the  next  day.  In  the  dark  forest  they 
made  a  small  fire,  ami  were  at  first  tormented  by  mos- 
quitoes and,  later,  by  the  chill  of  advancing  night,  so  that 
sleep  was  impossible.  The  extreme  wearinf"^s  of  (ex- 
hausted nature,  crowned  by  hunger  and  sleeplessness  amid 
clouds  of  voracious  mosquitoes,  was  only  offset  bj'  the 
contents  of  a  flask,  with  which  they  endeavored  to  revive 
their  drooping  spirits,  and  cherish  the  feeble  spark  of  life 
till  dawn. 

Fortunately,  the  nights  in  this  latitude  are  short,  and 
at  four  o'clock  they  continued  their  way  to  the  liow 
River,  which   they  followed  till  they  reached  Latrcran. 

About  six  days  later,  a  little  column  of  smoke  was  ob- 
served rising  from  the  forests  towards  the  east,  and  from 
Laggan  we  learned  that  the  woods  were  on  fire,  anti  tliat 
about  forty  acres  of  land  were  already  in  a  blaze.  A 
large  gang  of  section  men  were  despatched  at  once  with 
water  buckets  and  axes  to  fight  the  fire.  The  fire  did  not 
prove  so  extensive,  however,  as  at  first  reporf-d,  and  in 
about  two  days  all  the  men  were  recalled. 

William  said  to  one  of  us  :    "  Me  think  two  white  man 


\   " 


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aOHBHIBH 


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III! 


lOO 


The  Canadian  Rockies. 


light  him  fire;"  ;  to  which  our  friends  repHed  that  it  was 
impossible,  as  the  fire  had  broken  out  nearly  a  week  after 
they  had  been  there. 

William  replied,  with  the  only  trace  of  sarcasm  I  have 
ever  known  him  to  use  :  "  White  man  no  light  fire,  oh 
no,  me  think  sun  light  him." 


I     I 


CHAPTER    VII. 

J'/it'  Jl'ilii  C/iiiiiichr  t>f  Paradise  \'alU-\ — J)ijficu/iics  7i'it/i  J\ick 
Horses — A  Remarkable  Acciiieiit — Our  Camp  and Surronnc/in^^s — Annua/ 
Friends — Midsummer  J'/oweis — Desolation  Valley — Ascent  of  Hazel  J'eak 
— An  Alpine  Lake  in  a  J<'isin  of  fa — First  Attempt  to  Scale  Aft.  female — 
Our  Camp  l>y  a  Small  f.ake — A  Mild  and  Stormy  A'iglit — .-///  fmpassahle 
Barrier — A  Scene  of  Utter  Desolation — All  Xatiire  Sleeps — fDificulties 
of  Ascent —  The  If  it; /test  J'oint  yet  Readied  in  Canada — Paradise  Valley  in 
Winter — Farewell  to  Lake  Louise. 

OUR  delightful  experience  in  l^aratlise.  \'alley  con- 
vinced us  that  a  camp  should  be  established  in 
it  near  the  southern  l^ase  of  Mount  Temple, 
which  we  ho[)ed  to  ascend.  TVom  this  camp  we  in- 
tended to  make  branch  excursions  in  all  direct!'. n^  and 
learn   something   of  the  mountains  toward  i:ast  and 

south.  .AH  this  region,  though  so  near  i  railroad, 
had  apparently  never  been  explored  by  the  sur\'  '"  s, 
and  the  (;arly  expeditions  had  of  course;  never  approached 
this  rciifion  nearer  than  th(;  \'ermilion  Pass  on  the  (;ast 
and  the  Kicking  Morsti  Pass  on  the  west.  In  all  our 
expeditions  through  these  lonely  but  grand  mountain 
valleys,  we  never  discovered  any  mark  of  axe  or  knife 
on  the  trees,  any  charred  pieces  of  wood  to  indicat(t  a 
camper's  fire,  nor  any  cairn  or  pile  of  stones  to  [irove 
some  climber's  conquest. 

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I02 


The  Canadian  Rockies. 


In  fact,  the  impenetrable  barrier  of  mountains  at  every 
valley  end  dissolved  the  surveyor's  hopes,  even  from  a 
distance,  of  findiny;  an)-  practicable  pass  throus^h  th(;  maze 
of  lofty  mountains  and  intervening  valleys  blocked  with 
glaciers  and  vast  heaps  of  moraine.  The  lone  prospector 
would  not  be  tempted  by  any  sign  of  gold  in  the  streams 
to  explore  these  valleys,  though  the  Indian  hunter  may 
have  occasionally  visited  these  regions  in  search  of   bears 


or  the  mountain  iroat. 


We  first  blazed  a  trail  from  the  chalet  to  the  entrance 
of  Paradise  Valley.  The  route  followed  was  merely  the 
best  and  most  open  pathway  that  we  could  find  through 
the  forests,  and  though  not  mcjre  than  three  miles  in 
length,  it  required  as  many  hours  to  reach  the  valley 
entrance.  Pack  horses  we  obtained  at  the  chalet,  but  no 
man  could  be  found  who  would  consent  to  act  as  our  cook 
or  assistant  in  managing  the  horses. 

Our  camp  was  at  length  established  by  the  side  of  a 
small  rivulet  on  the  lower  slopes  of  Mount  Temple,  where 
we  found  the  altitude  to  be  6900  feet  above  sea-level.  Our 
experiences  with  pack  animals  were  (^f  a  most  exciting- 
nature  and  sometimes  severel)-  trying  to  our  temper  and 
patience.  The  horses  were  not  accustomed  to  this  ser- 
vice and  performed  all  sorts  of  antics,  smashing  the  packs 
among  the  trees,  jumping  high  in  air  to  cl<  ar  a  small 
stream  six  inches  wide,  or  plunging  regartlicss  into 
rivers  where,  for  a  moment,  the  horse  and  packs  would  be 
submerged  in  the  water.  There  was  one  place  about  two 
miles  within   the  valley  entrance  that  might  well  try  the 


t^«K' 


Difficulties  with  Pack  Horses. 


103 


patience   of    Job    himself.      On    one   side  of    the   stream, 
was  an   impassable  area  covered  with    tree  trunks  criss- 
crossed and  piled  two  or  three  deep  by  some  snow-slide 
of    former    years.      On    the    other   side    of    the    stream, 
which    we  were  compelled   to   take,  was  a  dense   forest. 
Below  was  a  tangled  growth   of  bush,  and  many  fallen 
trees,  all    resting   on  a  foundation  of  large   loose  stones 
covered  six  inches  deep  with  green  moss.      Between  these 
stones  were  deep  holes  and  occasional  underground  streams, 
the  water  of  which  could  be  faintly  heard  below  and  which 
had  probably  washed  away  the  soil  and  left  these  angular 
stones  unprotected.      To  lead  a  horse  through  this  place 
required   the  greatest  skill,    patience,    and   even    daring. 
Without  some  one  to  lead  the  animal  with  a  rope,   the 
poor  beast  would  stand  motionless,  but  to  pick  one's  wax- 
over  the  rough  ground  while  leading  the;  horse  invariably 
ended  in    disaster.      The   very   first   hole   was  enough  to 
frighten   the   horse,  so  that,  instead  of  proceeding   more 
slowly,  the  animal  usually  made  a  mad  rush  forward  regard- 
less of  the  leader,  who  invariably  tied  and  sought  the  pro- 
tection of  a  tree,  while  the  horse  soon  fell  prostrate  among 
the  maze  of  obstacles.      In  these  frantic  rushes  many  of 
us  were  several  times  trampled  on  by  the  horse,  and  the 
packs  were  smashed  against  the  branches  and  truidcs  of 
trees,  or  torn   off  altogether.     This   was  an  e.xceediuLdv 
dangerous  bit  of  ground,  and  it  was  remarkable  that  on  so 
many  occasions  we  were  able  to  lead  our  horses  through 
it  without  a  broken  letr- 

One  of  our  most  remarkable  adventures  with  a  horse 


1 1 


« 


i' 


.itiii^ 


I04 


The  Canadian  Rockies. 


may  indeed  test  the  credence  of  the  reader,  but  five  men 
can  vouch  for  its  actual  occurrence.  We  were  passinjj 
along  through  the  forest  in  our  usual  manner,  which  was 
the  outgrowth  of  much  experience.  First  of  all,  one  man 
preceded  and  did  nothing  else  but  find  the  blaze  marks 
and  keep  on  the  ill-defined  trail  as  well  as  possible. 
About  twenty-five  yards  behind  came  another  man  whose 
duty  it  was  to  find  the  pathfinder,  and  if  possible,  improve 
on  his  trail.  Then  came  one  of  our  party  who  led  the 
horse  with  a  long  head  rope,  while  behind  the  horse  were 
two  men  whose  duty  it  was  to  pick  up  whatever  articles 
fell  out  of  the  packs  from  time  to  time,  and  fasten  them 
on  again. 

As  we  were  proceeding  in  this  manner,  we  came  to 
a  slanting  tree  which  leaned  over  the  trail  at  an  angle  of 
about  thirty  degrees.  It  was  just  small  enough  to  be 
limber,  and  just  large  enough  to  be  strong.  Moreover,  it 
was  too  low  for  the  horse  to  go  under,  and  a  little  too 
high  for  him  to  jump  over.  One  might  travel  a  lifetime 
and  never  meet  with  just  such  anotlier  tree  as  this.  In 
less  than  ten  seconds  this  tree  had  brought  the  horse  and 
two  of  our  party  to  the  ground  and  wrought  consterna- 
tion in  our  ranks. 

As  the  horse  approached  the  slanting  tree,  F.,  who 
was  leading,  saw  the  animal  rear  high  in  the  air  to  prepare 
for  a  jump.  He  thought  it  best  to  get  out  of  the  way, 
but  in  his  haste  stumbled  and  fell  headlonof  into  a  bush. 
Meanwhile  the  horse,  a  stupid  old  beast,  prepared  for  the 
effort  of  his  life,  and  with  a  tremendous  spring  jumped 


A  Remarkable  Accident. 


105 


hii>h  in  air,  but  unfortunately  his  fore-feet  cauij^ht  on  the 
small  tree,  which  swung  forward  a  little  and  then  returninsr 
like  a  powerful  spring,  turned  the  animal  over  in  mid-air. 
The  horse  landed  on  his  back  some  five  yards  farther  on, 
and,  with  his  four  legs  straight  up  in  the  air,  remained 
motionless  as  death.  But  this  was  not  all,  for  the  tree 
swung  back  violently  and  struck  H.  on  tiie  nose,  fortu- 
nately at  the  end  of  the  swing,  but  with  suiificient  force  to 
knock  him  down. 

When  our  two  friends  recovered,  we  turned  our  atten- 
tion to  the  horse,  which  still  remained  motionless  on  his 
back.  "  He  is  dead,"  said  F.,  but,  on  rolling  him  over, 
the  poor  animal  got  up  and  seemed  none  the  worse  for 
his  experience,  except  for  a  more  than  usual  stupidity. 

•  We  camped  about  ten  days  in  Paradise  Valley  in  a 
beautiful  spot  near  the  end.  Here,  on  all  sides  except 
towards  the  north,  the  place  is  hemmed  in  by  lofty  moun- 
tains. We  saw  the  valley  in  all  sorts  of  weather,  in  clear 
sunshiny  days,  and  when  the  clouds  hung  low  and  shut 
out  the  mountains  from  view.  On  one  or  two  occasions 
the  ground  was  white  with  snow  for  a  short  time,  thoutrh 
our  visit  was  during  the  first  part  of  August. 

Many  kinds  of  animals  frequented  the  valley,  and  some 
of  the  smaller  creatures  lived  in  the  rocks  on  all  sides  of 
our  camp  and  became  quite  friendly.  One  of  the  most 
intf^resting  little  animals  of  the  Canadian  Rockies  is  the 
little  pica,  or  tailless  hare.  This  small  animal  abounded 
in  the  vicinity  of  our  camp  and  is  in  fact  alwa^'s  found  at 
about   7000  feet  altitude.     It  is  a  hare  about  the  size  of 


I' 

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1 06 


The  Canadian  Rockies. 


1       r' 


N^  ^ 


1' 

i 


a  rat,  which,  with  its  round  cars,  it  more  resembles.  These 
httle  fellows  have  a  dismal  squeak,  and  they  are  very 
impertinent  in  their  manner  of  sittins^  up  amonj^  the  rocks 
at  the  entrance  to  their  holes,  and  t;a/in_i:j  at  their  human 
visitors,  ever  ready  to  pop  out  of  sight  at  a  sii^n  of  danj^^er. 
Chipmunks  were  likewise  abundant  and  visited  our  camp 
to  pick  up  scattered  crumbs  from  our  table. 

There  is  a  species  of  rat  with  a  bushy  tail  that  lives 
in  the  forests  and  rocky  places  of  these  mountains  and 
is  the  most  arrant  thief  amonjr  all  the  rodents.  Nothing 
is  too  large  for  them  to  try  and  carry  off,  and  th(;y  will 
make  away  with  the  camper's  compass,  aneroid,  or  watch, 
and  hide  them  in  some  inaccessible  hole,  apparently  with 
the  desire  to  set  up  a  collection  of  curios. 

The  siftleur,  or  marmot,  is  the  largest  among  these 
rodents,  and  reaches  the  length  of  twenty-five  or  thirty 
inches.  These  animals  usually  frequent  high  altitudes 
at,  or  above  the  tree  line,  where  they  build  large  nests 
among  the  rocks  and  lay  up  a  store  of  provisions  for  win- 
ter time.  They  are  very  fat  in  the  fall,  but  it  is  not  known 
wliether  they  hibernate  or  not.  Their  note  is  a  very  loud 
shrill  whistle,  which  they  make  at  a  distance,  but  they  never 
allow  one  to  approach  very  near,  like  the  impudent  picas. 

We  saw  very  few  of  the  mountain  goats,  though  we 
often  came  upon  their  fresh  tracks  in  the  mud  near  streams 
or  in  the  snow  far  up  on  the  mountain  sides.  On  several 
occasions  we  could  hear  the  patter  and  rattle  of  stones 
sent  down  by  the  movements  of  some  herd,  though  our 
eyes  failed  to  detect  them. 


Midsummer  I  'lowers. 


lo: 


Where  the  forests  grew  thick  in  the  valley,  the  herbs 
and  llowering  plants  were  always  less  numerous,  but  in  the 
meadows  the  nrouiul  was  colored  by  mountain  Mowers  of 
beautiful  shades  and  pretty  forms.  The  tasselled  heads  of 
the  large  anemones,  long  since  gone  to  seed,  were  conspic- 
uous everywhere,  and  they  are  always  a  beautiful  object 
among  the  meadow  grass  as  the  summer  breezes  make 
gentle  waves  <)\er  these  seas  of  verdure.  Along  the  bare 
rocky  margins  of  tlie  streams,  where  all  else  has  been 
forced  to  retire  by  occasional  floods,  two  species  of  plants 
make  a  most  brilliant  coloring  and  dazzle  the  eye  with 
discordant  shades.  They  are  the  castilleias,  or  painter's 
brush,  with  bright  scarlet  and  green  leaves  clustered  at 
the  top  of  a  leafy  stem,  and  the  epilobiums,  with  reddish- 
purple  blossoms  ;  these  two  plants  were  often  so  close 
together  with  their  inharmonious  color  tones  as  to  perplex 
the  observer  in  regard  to  nature's  meaning.  When  nature 
does  such  things  we  grow  to  like  her  apparent  mistakes, 
just  as  we  love  the  bitter-sweet  chords  of  Schumann,  or 
Grieg's  harsh  harmonies. 

We  made  several  excursions  into  the  next  valley  to  the 
eastward,  and  beyond  that,  over  the  water-shed  into  British 
Columbia.  The  valley  to  the  east  offered  the  (greatest 
contrast  to  Paradise  Valley.  It  was  somewhat  wider,  the 
altitude  was  in  general  higher,  so  that  a  great  part  was 
above  the  tree  line,  while  the  awful  wildness  and  con- 
fusion created  by  vast  heaps  of  moraine  and  a  large 
glacier  at  the  foot  of  a  range  of  saw-edged  mountains 
made  this  place  seem  like  a  vale  of  desolation  and  death. 


I ' 


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1 08 


The  Canadian  Rockies. 


At  tlui  close  of  ourcampinjT  experie;nces,  we  effected  the 
conquest  of  two  mountains,  Hazel  Peak  and  Mount  Teni- 
jjle,  on  two  successive  days.  VV<;  tirst  tried  Hazt.-l  Peak, 
antl  by  following  the  route  which  hail  been  previous!)'  se- 
lected, wt;  found  the  ascent  remarkably  <;asy.  ( )n  the 
summit,  the  climber  is  10,370  feet  above  sea-level, — higher 
than  the  more  c(!lebrated  Mount  Stephen,  oftiMi  claimed 
to  bt;  the  highest  along  the  railroad, — and  surrounded  by 
more  high  peaks  than  can  Ix;  foiuul  at  any  other  known 
part  of  th(;  Canadian  Rockies,  south  of  Alaska.  In  fact 
there  are  seven  or  i;ight  peaks  within  a  radius  of  si.\  miles 
that  are  over    11,000  feet  high. 

The  view  is,  at  tlu;  same  time,  grand  and  inspiring,  and 
has  certain  attractions  that  high  mountain  views  rarely 
present.  The  rock  precipice  and  snow-crowned  crest  of 
Mount  Lefroy  are  separated  from  the  summit  of  Hazel 
Peak  by  one  of  the  grandest  and  deepest  canyons  of  the 
Canadian  Rockies,  so  that  the  distance  from  summit  to 
summit  is  only  one  mile  and  a  half.  The  ascent  of  Hazel 
Peak  is  certainly  well  worth  the  labor  of  the  climb,  as  the 
round  trip  may  be  easily  accomplished  from  Paradise  Val- 
ley in  five  hours,  though  the  ascent  is  nearly  4000  feet. 

On  the  north  side,  from  the  very  summit,  a  fine  glacier 
sweeps  down  in  steep  pitch  far  into  the  valley  below  and 
with  its  pure  white  snow  and  yawning  blue  crevasses 
of  unfathomable  depth,  forms  one  of  the  most  attractive 
features  of  this  mountain.  The  most  remarkable  and 
beautiful  object  that  we  discovered,  however,  was  a  small 
lake  or  pool  of  water  only  a  few  yards  below  the  summit 


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First  Attempt  on  Mt.  'J'cnij)le. 


109 


of  the  mountain.  Encircled  on  all  sides  by  the  pure  snows 
of  these  lofty  altitudes,  and  embedded,  as  it  were,  in  a  blue 
crystal  basin  of  glacier  ice,  the  water  of  this  little  lake  was 
colored  deep  as  indigo,  while  over  the  surface  a  film  of  ice. 
formed  during  the  previous  night,  had  not  yet  melted 
away. 

We  returned  to  camp  much  elated  with  our  success  but 
doubtful  of  the  morrow,  as  no  easy  route  had  yet  been  dis- 
covered up  the  forbidding  slopes  of  Mount  Temple.  The 
year  before,  Mr.  A.  and  I  had  been  hopelessly  defeated 
even  when  we  had  counted  most  on  success.  Moreover, 
the  mere  fact  that,  though  this  mountain  was  the  highest 
yet  discovered  anywhere  near  the  railroad,  it  had  never 
been  ascended  by  any  surveyor  or  climber,  made  success 
appear  less  probable,  though  it  urged  us  on  to  a  keener 
ambition. 

The  attempt  by  A.  and  myself  to  ascend  this  mountain 
in  1893  was  probably  the  first  ever  made.  During  the 
first  week  of  August,  we  started  from  Laggan,  havinof 
with  us  a  Stoney  Indian,  named  Enocli  Wildnian,  and  one 
horse  to  carry  our  tent  and  provisions.  The  tlay  was  un- 
usually hot,  and,  as  we  forced  our  monotonous  and  tiresome 
passage  through  the  scanty  forests  of  pine  near  the  Bow 
River,  we  suffered  very  much  from  heat  and  thirst.  In 
these  mountain  excursions,  it  is  the  best  policy  to  wear 
very  heavy  clothes,  even  at  the  disadvantage  of  b(,'ing  un- 
comfortable during  the  day,  for  the  nights  are  invariably 
cold,  even  at  low  altitudes.  We  did  not  camj)  until  night- 
fall, when  we  found   ourselves  on  the  northern  slope  of 


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The  Canadian  Rockies. 


the  mountain,  7000  feet  above  sea-level,  by  the  side 
of  a  small  lake.  The  little  lake  occupied  a  depression 
among  giant  boulders  and  the  debris  of  the  mountain. 
At  one  end,  a  large  bank  of  snow  extended  into  and  below 
the  water,  which  was  apparently  rising,  as  there  were  frag- 
ments of  frozen  snow  lloating  about  in  the  lake.  The 
banks  sloped  steeply  into  the  water  on  all  sides,  and  there 
was  not  a  single  lev(;l  spot  for  our  camp,  so  that  it  was 
necessary  to  build  a  wall  of  stones,  near  the  water's  edge, 
for  our  feet,  and  to  prevent  ourselves  from  sliding  into  the 
lake  during  the  night. 

The  weather  was  wild  and  stormy,  and  the  long  night 
seemed  to  drag  out  its  weary  length  to  an  interminable  ex- 
tent of  time,  attended  as  it  was  by  showers  of  rain  and 
hail  and  furious  gusts  of  wind,  which  threatened  to  bring 
our  flapping  tent  to  the  ground  at  any  moment. 

Our  camp-fire,  which  had  been  built  on  a  scale  appropri- 
ate to  some  larger  race  of  men,  was  a  huge  pile  of  logs, 
each  fidly  ten  feet  long,  and  twelve  or  eighteen  inches 
through,  but  the  wind  blew  so  strong  that  the  mass  roared 
like  a  vast  forge  during  the  early  hours,  and  then  died 
away  into  an  inert  mass  of  cinders  toward  the  chill  of 
morning. 

The  light  of  day  revealed  our  wild  surroundings.  We 
were  under  the  northern  precipice  of  Mount  Temple,  and 
so  close  that  we  could  see  only  the  lower  part  of  this  in- 
accessible wall.  A  beautiful  fall  dashed  down  in  a  series 
of  cascades  through  a  distance  of  about  1000  feet, 
and  fed  our  little  lake.     Sometimes  the  strong  wind,  blow- 


An  Impassable  Barrier. 


Ill 


in_o-  against  the  cliff,  or  sweeping  iipward,  would  make  the 
water  pause  and  momentarily  hang  in  mid-air,  suspended, 
as  it  were,  on  an  invisible  airy  cushion,  till  gathering 
greater  volume,  it  would  hurst  through  the  barrier  and 
fall  in  a  curtain  of  sparkhng  drops. 

Poor  Enoch  had  suffered  terribly  from  cold  during  che 
night,  and  begged  our  permission  to  return  to  Laggan, 
promising  to  come  back  the  next  day — "  sun  so  high," 
pointing  to  its  place  in  the  early  afternoon.  He  said  in 
his  broken  English  :  "  No  grass  for  pony  here,  too  cold  me  ; 
no  like  it  me."  So  we  took  pity  on  him  and  sent  him  back 
to  more  comfortable  quarters  while  we  rested  in  compara- 
tive quiet,  ii  being  Sunday. 

Early  Monday  morning  we  had  our  breakfast  and  were 
on  foot  at  four  o'clock.  The  gloom  of  early  dawn,  the 
chill  of  morning,  and  the  cloudy  sky  had  no  cheering  effect 
on  our  anticipations.  Our  plan  was  to  traverse  the  moun- 
tain side  till  we  should  come  to  the  southeast  shoulder, 
where  we  had  once  observed  an  outline  of  apparently 
easy  slope. 

By  eleven  o'clock  we  had  reached  an  altitude  of  nearly 
10,000  feet  without  meeting  with  any  very  great 
difficulty,  but  here  we  came  suddenly  to  a  vertical  wall 
of  rock  about  400  feet  high  and  actually  htaning 
over  in  many  places,  a  barrier  that  completely  defeated 
us,  as  the  wall  extended  beyond  our  view  and  offered  no 
prospect  of  giving  out.  At  the  base  of  this  cliff  was  a 
steep,  narrow  slope  of  loose,  broken  limestone,  and  then 
another  precipice  below.     Along  this  dangerous  pathway 


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The  Canadian  Rockies. 


we  continued  for  some  distance,  kee|jiii_>f  close  to  the  base 
of  the  chff.  The  U)Ose  stontis,  set  in  motion  by  our  feet, 
shd  down  and  rolled  over  the  precipice,  where  we  could 
hear  them  grindinsr  to  powder  on  the  cliffs  below. 

Never  in  my  life  have  I  been  so  much  impressed  with 
the  stern  and  desolate  side  of  nature.  The  air  was  bitter 
cold  and  had  the  frosty  ozone  odor  of  winter.  A  stronjr 
wind  rushed  constantly  by  us,  and,  as  it  swept  up  the 
gorores  of  the  precipice  above,  and  over  the  countless  pro- 
jections of  the  cliffs,  made  a  noise  like  the  hoarse  murmur  of 
wind  in  a  ship's  rigging,  or  the  blast  of  some  great  furnace. 
To  the  south  and  east,  range  beyond  range  of  bare,  saw- 
edged  mountains  raised  their  cold,  sharp  summits  up  to  a 
cloudy  sky,  where  the  strong  wind  drove  threatening 
clouds  in  long  trains  of  dark  and  lighter  vapors.  The  in- 
tervening valleys,  destitute  of  vegetation  or  any  green 
thing,  were  filled  with  glaciers  and  vast  heaps  of  moraine, 
and  the  slides  of  debris  from  the  adjacent  mountain  side. 
All  was  desolate,  gloomv,  cold,  and  monotonous  in  color. 
Three  thousand  feet  below,  a  small  lake  was  still  bound 
fast  in  the  iron  jaws  of  wint(;r,  surrounded  as  it  was  by 
the  walls  of  mountains  which  shut  out  the  light  and 
warmth  of  the  summer  sun.  Inert,  inanimate  nature  here 
held  perpetual  rule  in  an  everlasting  winter,  where  sum- 
mer, with  its  (lowers  and  birds  ar.d  pleasant  fertility,  is 
unknown,  and  man  rarely  ventures. 

Overcome  with  the  terrors  of  this  lonely  place  and  the 
hopelessness  of  further  attempt  to  reach  the  summit, 
where  a  snow-storm  was  now  racing,  we  turned  back.     As 


All  Nature  Sleeps. 


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we  reached  our  camp  we  found  Enoch  just  approachin,i,r, 
accordint^r  to  his  promise,  and  though  the  afternoon  was 
well  advanced,  we  packed  uj)  and  mo\ed  with  all  speed 
toward  Laggan.  We  reached  Lake  Louise  at  10.30  I'.m., 
after  almost  nineteen  hours  of  constant  walking. 

Now,  however,  at  our  camp  in  Parailise  \'alley,  the 
conditions  were  somewhat  different.  We  were  at  the 
very  base  of  the  mountain,  and  had  learned  much  more 
about  it,  in  the  year  that  had  elapsed  since  our  first 
attempt. 

The  mountaineer  has  many  discomforts  n'ingled  with 
the  keen  enjoyment  of  his  rare  experiences.  None  is 
more  trying  than  the  early  hour  at  which  he  -'s  compelled 
to  rise  from  his  couch  of  balsam  iioughs  and  set  forth 
on  his  morning  toil.  At  the  chill  hour  befort;  dawn,  when 
all  nature  stagnates  and  animate  creation  is  plunged 
in  deepest  sl(;ep,  the  mountain  climber  must  needs  arouse 
himself  from  heavy  slumber  and,  unwilling,  compel  his 
sluggish  body  into  action. 

This  is  the  deadest  hour  of  the  twenty-four — the  time 
just  before  dawn.  The  breezes  of  earl)-  night  have  died 
away  into  a  cold  and  frosty  calm  ;  the  thermometer  sinks 
to  its  lowest  point,  and  even  the  barometer,  as  though  in 
sympathy,  reaches  one  of  its  diurnal  minima  at  this  un- 
timely hour.  And  if  inanimate  nature  is  thus  greatly 
affected,  much  more  are  the  creations  of  the  vegetable 
and  animal  kingdoms.  The  plants  are  suffering  from  tiie 
cold  and  frost  ;  the  animals  of  daytime  have  not  as  yet 
aroused  themselves  from  sleep,  while  the  nocturnal  prowl- 


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114 


The  Canadian  Rockies. 


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vAs  have  already  ceased  their  ([lu-st  of  prey  and  returned 
to  tlieir  dens.  Even  man  is  affected,  for  at  this  dead  hour 
the  ebb  and  pulse  of  life  beat  slow  and  feeble,  and  the  lin- 
gering^ spark  of  life  in  those  wasted  by  disease  comes  at 
this  time  most  near  nfoinsj;  out. 

At  such  an  unseasonable  hour,  or  more  accurately  at 
four  A.M.,  were  we  up,  on  the  17th  of  August  pre- 
paring for  our  ascent  of  Mount  Temph;.  There  was  no 
trace  of  dawn,  and  the  waning  moon,  now  in  her  last  quar- 
ter, was  riding  low  in  the  southern  sky,  just  above  the 
sharp  triangular  peak  at  the  end  of  our  valley. 

At  nine  o'clock  in  the  morning,  we  had  gained  the 
summit  of  the  pass  between  Mount  Temple  and  Pinnacle 
Mountain,  where  we  were  9000  feet  above  sea-level. 
The  ascent  so  far  had  not  been  of  an  encouraging  nature, 
as  we  iiad  encount(!red  a  long,  loose  slide  where  every- 
thing moved  threateningly  at  each  step.  I  have  never 
seen  a  more  unstible  slope.  The  stones  and  boulders 
would  slide,  and  begin  to  move  at  a  tlistance  of  ten  and 
fifteen  feet  above  the  place  wlv^re  we  stood,  and  on  every 
side  also.  F.,  who  was  one  of  the  party,  \vas  terror- 
stricken,  for  he  now  had  a  horror  of  moving  stones  of 
any  description. 

The  view  from  this  pass  was  very  extraordinary.  To 
the  cast  stood  the  rugged,  saw-edg(.'d  mountains  of  the 
Desolation  Range,  looming  up  in  solemn  grandeur  through 
an  atmosphere  bluish  and  hazy  with  the  smoke  of  forest 
fires.  The  air  was  perfectly  calm  and  had  the  bracing 
coolness  of   early   morning  and  high  altitude,  which  the 


IIi_Lihcst  I\)int  Reached  in  Canada. 


'15 


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risino  sun  tempered  most  gentl\-.  I'hc  weather  condi- 
tions for  accomphsiiin^'  our  ascent  wert;  perfect,  hut  there 
was  httle  pros[)(;ct  of  a  Cwu:  vi(.'\v  hy  reason  of  the  smoke. 
'I'h(!  outh)ok  from  the  pass  was  indetxl  discouras^ing. 
Cliffs  and  h;dg("s  with  broken  stones  and  loose  debris 
seemed  to  oppose  all  safe  passage.  Fortunately,  as  we  pro- 
gressed the  difficulties  vanished,  antl  not  till  w(;  reached  an 
altitude  of  about  10,000  feet  ilid  we  encountt;r  any  n^al  ob- 
stacles. We  found  a  passagi;  through  the  great  rock  wall 
which  had  defeated  us  last  \ear,  by  the  aid  of  a  little  gully, 
which,  however,  entailed  sonie  rather  difficult  climbing. 
This  arduous 
work     continued 

throughout  the 
ne.\t     1000    feet, 

when,  at  an  alti- 
tude of  I  1,000 
feet,  we  came  to 
the  great  slope 
bet  w  e  e  n  the 
southwest  and 
west  an'/cs  and 
fountl  an  easy 
passage  to  the 
summit. 

Many  a  liearty  cheer  rent  the  thin  air  as  our  little 
party  of  three  reached  tht-  summit,  for  we  were  standing 
where  no  man  had  v\(tv  stood  bc^fore,  and,  if  I  mistake 
not,  at  the  highest  altitude  )'et  reached  in  North  America 


SUMMIT  or  MOUNT  TEMPLE. 


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The  Canadian  Rockies. 


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imrth  of  the  United  States  boundary.  The  summit  was 
formeil  of  hard  hhiish  limestones,  broken  ami  piled  up  in 
blocks,  as  on  all  lii.L^h  mountain  tops.  The  clifTs  towanl 
the  east  were  stupendous  and  led  the  eye  down  t(j  the 
valley  more  than  a  mile  below.  The  air  was  almost  calm 
and  just  above  freezint^,  and  the  snow  was  meltinj^  cjuite 
fast  in  the  sun.  The  thermometer  at  the  Lake  Louise 
chalet  reached  seventy-two  deijrees  at  the  same  time  that 
we  were  on  the  summit  o(  Mount  Temple,  which  provt.-s 
this  to  be  almost  the  highest  temperature  that  (;ver  occurs 
on  this  lofty  point.  It  would  be  safe  to  say  that  the  tem- 
perature on  the  top  of  Mount  Temple  never  rises  liiifher 
than  forty  degrees. 

If  one  is  fortunate  in  a  <rood  selection  of  routes,  th(t 
ascent  of  Mount  Temple  will  not  be  found  difficult.  Hut 
the  descent  is  very  perple.xing,  for  unless  one  remem- 
bers the  intricate  coiaumation  of  ({ullies  and  ledws  b\' 
which  the  ascent  is  made,  many  precipitous  cliffs  will  be 
encountered  down  which  it  is  impossible  to  descend. 

This  was  our  last  evxploit  in  Paradise  Valh^y,  and  a 
few  days  later  the  various  members  of  our  party,  one  b)- 
one,  bade  farewell  to  the  beautiful  region  of  Lake  Louise 
with  its  many  pleasant  associations. 

I  remained  there  five  or  six  weeks  longer  until  wint(;r 
commenced  in  earnest  and  drove  every  one  away.  During 
the  first  week  of  October  I  made  a  final  visit  to  Paradise 
Valley  with  Mr.  Astley,  the  manager  of  the  chalet,  in  order 
to  bring  Ijack  our  tent  and  the  camping  utensils.  Snow 
covered  the  ground  in  the  shady  parts  of  the  woods,  even 


Paradise  Valley  in  Winter 


"7 


at  the  entrance  of  the  valley.  The  stream  had  fallen  so 
much  that  its  rocky  bed  proved  the  best  route  up  the 
valley,  especially  for  the  horse.  After  an  hour's  journey 
within  the  entrance  we  found  ourselves  at  th(!  base  of 
Mount  .Sheol,  ami  not  far  above  us  could  be  seen  a  tine 
herd  of  seven  or  eight  mountain  jjjoats.  They  scampered 
off  on  seeinj^r  us,  but  soon  came;  to  halt  as  they  were 
tempted  by  curiosity  to  have  another  look.  These  snow- 
white  L,^oats  are  the  most  characteristic  animals  of  the 
Rocki(,'s  and  nearly  correspond  in  habits  with  liie  more 
cunninu^  chamois  of  Switzerland.  Like  them  it  is  a  species 
of  antelope,  though  it  resembles  a  goat  to  a  remarkable 
degree. 

We  found  our  camp  buried  in  snow,  the  ridge-poU;  of 
the  tent  broken  down  witii  the  heavy  burden,  and  every- 
thing so  much  disguised  by  the  wintry  mantle  that  we 
had  difficulty  in  finding  the  camping  place.  Even  as  wr. 
were  packing  up  the  frozen  canvas  and  blankets,  the  air 
was  full  of  falling  snow  and  the  mountains  encircling  the 
valley  wert:  only  revealed  in  vague  antl  indefinite  outlines, 
while  (n'er  and  anon  could  be  heard  th(;  dull  roar  of  snow- 
slides  sweeping  down  to  the  glacier. 

x\bout  nightfall  we  were  back  at  the  entrance  to  the 
valley,  where  tiie  lower  altitude  gave  us  the  advantage 
of  a  ground  nearly  free  of  snow,  though  a  line  rain  sifted 
down  through  the  spruce  needles  almost  constanth'. 

Here  we  camped  in  the  dense  forest,  and  our  roaring 
fire,  built  high  with  great  logs,  soon  drove  awa\-  the  chill 
and  dampness  of  the  rainy  night.     The  tent,  our  clothes, 


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The  Canadian  Rockies. 


ami  the  mossy  ,t,n-oiiii(l  were  soon  stcaminj^,  and  tlu;  hrij^iit 
glare  of  our  camp-fire  illumined  the  trees  ami  '^..wi:  us 
jj^ood  cheer,  surrouiid(;d  as  we  were  by  miles  of  trackless 
forests  in  the  blackness  of  nij^ht.  A  heart)'  su|)per  and 
a  i^real  pail  of  stron*;'  h(jt  tea  soon  revived  our  spirits, 
anil  on  a  soft  couch  of  he-aths  and  balsam  bouj^hs— more 
luxurious  than  any  b(;d  of  '!a-.v:i — we  bid  defiance  to  »he 
darkness  and  storm  in  perfect  comfort.  The  next  day 
the  snow-llakes  were  fallinj^  i^ently  and  steadily,  so  that  the 
trees  were  covered  even  to  their  branchlets  and  needles 
with  the  white  mantle.  The  bushes,  the  mosses,  and  even 
the  blades  of  grass  in  the  swampy  marshes,  as  we  pursued 
our  homeward  way,  were  all  concealed  and  transformed 
into  pure  white  images  of  themselves  in  snow. 

A  few  days  later  I  went  up  to  Lake  Agnes  to  hunt 
for  mountain  goats,  which  frequent  this  place  in  great 
numl)(;rs.  The  snow  was  two  feet  deep.  The  lake  was 
already  nearly  covered  with  ice,  and  I  was  compelled  to 
seek  shelter  behind  a  cliff  against  a  bitterly  cold  wind, 
driving  icy  particles  of  hail  and  snow  against  my  face. 

It  was  useless  to  prolong  the  contest  longer.  Winter 
had  resumed  her  iron  sway  in  these  boreal  regions  and 
high  altitudes,  and  in  a  few  weeks  Lake  Louise  too  would 
begin  to  freeze,  and  no  longer  present  its  endless  change 
of  ripple  and  calm,  light  and  shadow,  or  the  reflected 
images  of  rocks  and  trees  and  distant  mountains. 


chapti-:r  VIII. 

Till-  Selkirk^ — UtOj^mpliical  /'<>.<i/ii>n  I'l  t//i-  /'iitiit^r — (i(><ii/  Clwci  i>f 
the  Glacier  Ifousc — Charmini;  Situation  -l.  'oiii/'ini.^iin  /irlii'mi  t/ir  Sdkii ks 
ami  Rockies — F.arly  Mountain  .  licrnts — /\-iisity  vf  the  h'orest — Ascent  i>f 
Ea^le  Peak — A  Magnificent  Panorama — .  /  /descent  in  the  Darkness — 
Account  of  a  Tcrril>le  Experience  on  Eag/e  J'eak —  Trails  throuj^h  t/ie 
Forest — Future  Popularity  of  the  Selkirk^ — The  Forest  Eri'nerai-  .In 
Epitome  of  Human  Life — Age  of  Trees —  Foirsts  Dependent  on  llumiditx, 

WI{ST  of  thai  chain  of  tlu-  Rocky  Mountains 
whicli  forms  tlu-  cix'st  or  backbone  of  the. 
continent,  lies  another  system  of  mouiitiins 
called  the  Selkirk  Ranije.  Mavi no- many  features  in  com- 
mon with  the  mountains  to  tiie  east,  this  range  has,  never- 
theless, certain  constant  characteristics  of  vey^etation  and 
geolou^ical  formation,  so  that  llu;  traveller  who  is  but 
slij^htly  familiar  with  them  shouKl  never  be  at  a  loss  in 
regard  to  his  surroundings. 

The  position  of  this  range  in  relation  to  the  other 
mountains  of  the  great  Cordilleran  System  is  not  difficult 
to  understand.  The  Selkirks  may  be  said  to  begin  in  north- 
western Montana  between  the  Summit  Range  and  the  Bitter 
Root  Mountains,  and,  trending  in  a  northwestward  direc- 
tion through  British  Columbia  about  three  hundred  miles, 
they  approach  the  main  range  and  apparently  merge  into 

IK) 


I J 


( 


I20 


The  Canadian  Rockies. 


iL  near  the 
)ftlu 


A  thai 


)as(a 


ass. 


lu'  most  remarkable  fcat- 


uri:  ot  u\v.  ranj;c:  is  thr.  m.uiiur  in  whuh  it  compels  tlu-  Ljreat 
Columbia  River  to  run  northward  for  lift)'  leagues  on  its 
eastern  sitU',  before  it  allows  a  passagi;  to  the  wist,  so  that 
the  northern  portions  of  tin.-  range  are  entirely  hemmed 


m  I) 


y 


tl 


lis  lari't;  river, 


ith 


)\viny  in  opposite  directions  on 
eitlier  side.  .Another  feature  of  t,freat  intere:>t  in  reijartl 
to  the  drainage  is  tlu:  relation  betwe(  n  the  Ct)lumbia  and 
Kootanie  rivers.  The  latter  river  is  one  of  the  chief  tribu- 
taries to  the  iip[)er  Columbia,  and  llows  southwani  to  a 
point  one  mile  and  a  half  from  the  head  waters  of  the 
Columbia,  which  it  pr.sses  on  its  jtnirney  southward,  while 
the  Columbia  Hows  in  the  opposite  direction.     The  water 

of  the  Koota- 
nie is  actually 
hii^dier  t  h  an 
that  of  t  h  e 
Cohiml)ia  a  t 
this  point,  and 


as 


the  t 


wo  riv- 


ers   are    only 
separated  b)-  a 


ow, 


1 


e  \-  V 


1 


Pl 


am,    It    was 


ed 


GLACIER  HOUSE. 


once  propos 
to  cut  a  chan- 
nel    between, 


and  divert  the  Kootanie  into  the  Columbia. 

The  traveller  is  always  glad  to  find  himself    at    the 


f 


Tlu'  (ilacicr  I  louse. 


I  :•  I 


This 


(ilacicr  House  in  the  heart  of  the  Sclkirks.  i  ms  is 
morn  cspcciall)' true,  jl  in  incvinus  Ncais,  he  has\isit«'cl 
this  charmin}^  spot  ami  become  in  sonu'  ilej^rce  familiar 
with  liu!  place.  The  railroad  mak<s  a  lari^c  loop  round 
a  narrow  vallc)'  and  sweeps  apparentl\-  close  to  the 
great  j^dacicr  of  the  Sclkirks,  a  vast  sea  of  ice  that  j^list- 
ens  in  a  siKerj'  white  sheen  and  appears  to  risi-  above 
the  forests  as  oiu-  looks  southward.  There  is  somethinL( 
])re-eminently  comfortable  and  homelike  about  the  (dacier 
House.  The  effect  is  intleiinable,  and  one  hanlly  knows 
whether  the  j^eneral  style  of  an  ICnj^dish  inn,  or  the  genu- 
ine hos|)itality  that  oiu'  receivi's,  is  the  chief  cause.  ()ne 
always  fec:ls  at  home  in  this  wild  little  spot,  and  scarce  ly 
realizes  that  ci\ilization  is  so  far  distant. 

The  rush  of  summer  j^aii^sts  called  for  the  erection  of 
an  annex,  so  that  there  arc-  now  two  hotels  for  the  aci-om- 
niodation  of  tourists.  The  (dacier  House  is  located  near 
the  railroail,  and  occu|)ies  a  si'iiall,  nearly  level,  place  at  the 
bottom  of  one  of  those  deep  and  narrow  \alle\s  character- 
istic of  the  Sclkirks.  'liiose  who  ha\'e  visited  the  b'ran- 
conia  Notch,  in  llic  \\'hite  Mountains  woidtl  bi'  sonic  what 
reminded  of  that  beautiful  spot  upon  first  seeing;  the 
surroi;ndin<'^s  of  (jlacier.  The  <>roimcl  in  front  of  the 
hotel  has  been  levelled  and  Is  rendered  beautiful  by  a 
thick  carpet  of  turf.  In  summer  ii  is  fra_L,n-ant  and  almost 
snowy  in  appearance  from  the  multitude  of  white  clover 
blossoms.  This  garden  spot  in  the  wilderness  is  still  fur- 
ther adorned  by  fountains,  which  break  the  continuity  of 
the  greensward,  and  are  fed  by  cascades  that  may  be  seen 


( 


V 


I 


III 


122 


The  Canadian  Rockies. 


descending  the  opposite  mountain  side   in  many  a  leap, 
tiirough  a  total  distance  of  iSoo  feet. 

Hut  this  small  area,  that  man  has  improved  and  ren- 
dered more  suitable  to  his  comfort,  is  surrounded  on  all 
sides  by  a  wilderness,  perhaps  better  described  as  a  little 
explored  range  of  mountains  separattxl  by  deep  gorges 
and  covered  with  dense  forests.  It  is  like  the  Alps  of 
Switzerland  and  the  Black  l^'orest  combined.  There  are 
snow-clad  peaks,  large  glaciers,  and  ui'vc  regions  of  vast 
extent  in  the  higher  altitudes,  while  the  valleys  below  are 
dark  and  sombre  in  their  covering  of  deep,  cool  forests. 
Tlu;  main  range  nf  the  Rockies  presents  no  such  rankness 
of  vesjetable  trrowth — UKxsses,  ferns,  and  lichens  coverinir 
ever}-  available  surface  on  tree  trunks  and  boulders — nor 
such  huge  tiees  as  those  found  everywhere  in  the  Selkirks. 

Moreov(;r,  the  mountains  of  the  Selkirk  Range  proba- 
bly average  looo  feet  lower  than  in  the  corresponding 
parts  of  the  main  range,  but  neverdieless  they  seem 
white  and  brilliant  in  their  mantles  of  everlastin<r  snow 
and  sparkling  glaciers,  [""inally,  one  observes  that  the  rail- 
road track  is  covered  at  frequent  intervals  b\-  snow-sheds 
of  considerable  length,  constructed  of  heavy  beams  and 
massive  timbers,  in  order  to  withstand  the  terrible  force 
and  weight  of  winter  snow-slides  and  avalanches.  In  the 
main  range  of  the  Rockies  there  are  no  snow  sheds.  The 
cjuestion  naturally  arises — What  is  the  reason  of  all  these 
differences  from  the  more  eastern  ranges  ? 

The  answer  to  the  cjuestion  is  that  the  climate  is  more 
humid.     The  snowfall  in  winter  is  so  (rreat  that  it  remains 


Humidity  of  Climate. 


'^3 


all  summer  at  much  lower  altitudes  than  in  the  Rockies, 
and  supplies  glaciers,  which  descend  perhaps  a  thousand 
feet  nearer  to  sea-level.  The  moisture  from  this  deep 
covering  of  snow,  saturates  the  ground  as  it  melts  in  the 
spring,  and,  in  addition  to  frequent,  heav\-  summer  rains, 
nourishes  the  rich  forests  of  these  mountains.  Moreover, 
the  atmosphere  is  always  slightly  moiste'-  than  it  is  to  tin; 
east,  and  does  not  tend  to  dry  up  the  grc-und  or  evaporate 
the  mountain  snows  so  rapidly  as  in  the  summit  range. 

The  eastward  movement  of  the  atmosphere  carrying 
up  moisture  from  the  Pacific,  causes  a  great  condensation 
of  clouds  and  a  heavy  rainfall  as  the  air  currents  pass  over 
the  Selkirks,  and  leaves  the  atmosphere  robbed  of  a  great 
part  of  its  moisture  to  pass  over  the  next  range  to  the  east. 

Almost  all  the  differences  between  the  Selkirks  and 
th(-  Rockies  proper,  spring  from  the  single  cause  of  a 
moister  climate.  The  [)rincipal  features  of  extensive  snow 
fields  and  luxuriant  forests  can  lie  readily  understood. 
May  not  the  deep,  narrow  valle)s  of  tlur  Selkirks  be  like- 
wise explained  from  the  more  apid  action  and  greater 
erosive  power  of  the  mountain  streams  in  cutting  down 
their  channels .-' 

Whatever  may  be  the  cause  of  all  these  phenomena, 
the  results  are  very  ai)parent.  Any  one  who  has  visited 
the  Selkirks  for  an  extended  periotl  has,  without  doubt, 
spent  many  a  day  within  doors  writing  his  diary  or  enjoy- 
ing the  pleasure  of  music  or  literature,  while  the  rain  is 
falling  constantl}',  and  the  cloutls  and  vapors  hang  low  on 
the  mountain   sides.     The   manner   in   which   the  clouds 


( 


m 

r ' 

1 

124 


The  Canadian  Rockies. 


come  s\vc'''pinir  up  the  Illiccllcv,aet  valley  at  the  base  of 
Mount  Cheops  and  turn  toward  the  flanks  of  I{aj4'le  Peak 
or  Mount  Sir  Donald  is  ver)-  impressive,  Certainh'  the 
cloud  effects  in  the  Selkirks  are  magnificent  beyond  all 
description. 

Nevertheless,  it  is  not  encouraufinor  to  havt;  a  friend 
step  off  the  train  and  announce  the  fact  that  he  has  been 
enjoying  fine  weather  for  s(;veral  days  in  the  Rocky 
Mountains,  some  tifly  or  sixty  miles  to  the  east,  whih;  you 
have  been  confined  to  the  house  by  a  long  period  of  rain. 

Often,  too,  the  climber  or  explorer  becomes  fretful 
under  long  confinement,  and,  taking  advantage  of  an 
apparcMit  clearing  away  of  clouds  and  a  promise  of  fair 
weather,  when  far  from  the  hotc:],  is  caught  in  a  sudden 
tlowp.pour,  antl  realizes  die  truth  of  that  scriptural  passage 
whicli  was  apparently  written  concerning  a  simila.  region 
- — "  They  an-  \v(;t  with  the  showers  of  the  mountains,  and 
embrace  the  rock  foi   want  .A  a  shelter." 

When  the  railroad  first  made  this  region  accessible  to 
tourists,  the  Selkirks  rapidU'  accjuired  a  remarkable  popu- 
larity, especially  among  mountain  climbers,  'n  this  early 
period  several  ])arties  came  ()ver  I  mm  luigland  and  other 
countries  (^f  JMirope  with  the  express  purjK)se  of  mak- 
ing mountain  ascents.  Such  parties  were  those  of  Or. 
Green  and  the  two  Swiss  climbers.  Huber  and  Sulzer.  A 
good  idea  of  the  difficulties  presentt.-d  1)\  the  higher  peaks 
to  skilled  mountaineers  ma\'  be  had  from  the  fact  that 
1  )r.  (ireen  and  his  |)arty  only  succeeded  in  reaching 
the  summit  of  one  high  peak,  while  Huber  and  .Sulzer  left 


i 


Density  of  the  Forests. 


•-5 


the  Hermit  RanLje  in  defeat,  though  they  succeeded  in 
rcachiuL;  the  top  of  the  shar[)  rock  peak,  M(junt  Sir 
Donald,   the   Matterhorn  of  the  Selkirks. 

One;  of  th(?  ciiief  difticuUies  to  overcome  is  the  penetra- 
tion of  the  f<-rest  belt  below  the  tree  line.  No  one  who 
has  not  tried  a  Selkirk  forest  has  any  conception  of  its 
nature  in  this  respect.  There  are  huge  tree  trunks  lying 
on  or  near  the  ground,  which  have  been  thrown  down  by 
the  precipitate  fury  of  some  winter  snow  slide,  or  have 
fallen  by  the  natural  processes  of  death  and  decay.  These 
great  obstacles  are  ofttimes  covered  with  a  slippery  coating 
of  moss  anil  lichens,  while'  the  ground  is  fairly  concealed 
by  a  rank  growth  of  ferns,  and  plants  in  countless  variety. 
The  density  of  the  underbrush  is  renderetl  still  more  trying 
u")  the  mountaineer  by  reason  of  a  i)lani  of  the  Ginseng 
family,  which  from  its  terrible  nature  is  most  fitly  named 
the  Devil's  Club,  for  it  is  armed  with  thousands  of  lone 
needle-like'  spines.  This  plant  grows  hve  or  six  fe(;t  high, 
with  a  stout  stem  bearing  a  few  leaves  of  large  size.  The 
spines,  which  arc;  an  inch  or  more  in  length,  project  in 
every  direction  like  an  array  of  (piills  on  a  porcui)ine,  and 
are  strong  enough  to  penetrate  the  skin  and  lU'sh  with 
surprising  facility.  The  alder  buslu's  attain  a  peculiar 
growth  in  the  Selkirks;  each  bush  consists  of  a  bunch  of 
long  slender  stems,  which  spread  out  from  the  ground  in 
every  direction,  ofttimes  with  nearly  prostrate  branches, 
which  interlace  and  form  a  wellnigh  impassable  hedge. 
The  alder  bushes  are  found  most  numerous  on  I)are  slopes 
of  the  mountains,  where  snow  slides  have  stripjjed  down 


'' 


< 


i  i 


■Hi 


I  26 


The  Canadian  Rockies. 


the  forests;  or  in  ravines,  where  the  crunihhnsj^  earth  j^ives 
no  certain  foothold  to  lartjjer  and  nobler  trees. 

In  1S93,  A.  and  1  made  an  ascent  of  Eajjjle  l^eak.  This 
mountain  lies  just  to  the  west  from  the  great  wedge-shaped 
rock  summit  of  Mount  Sir  Donald.  The  altitude  of  Eagle 
Peak  is,  I  believe,  a  little  more  than  9400  feet  above 
sea-level,  and  as  the  ("dacier  Mouse  is  only  4400  feet, 
the  ascent  invokes  a  climb  of  5000  feet.  The  name  of  the 
mountain  is  derived  from  a  sjreat  eras/  or  cliff  near  the 
summit,  which  appears  to  i^'an  lut  from  a  ridge,  and  bears 
a  striking  resemblance  to  the  head  of  an  eagle.  When  we 
wer(!  making  our  ascent  W(;  came  suddenly  on  the  Eagle 
itself,  which  now,  on  a  nearer  view,  i)ro\-e(l  to  be  of  colos- 
sal size,  a  great  leaning  tower,  about  sixt)'  feet  high. 
Rising  from  one  of  the  rocky  ridgu-s,  it  reached  upwards 
and  outwards  till  tht;  outermost  point  seemed  to  overhang 
a  bottomless  abyss,  perhaps  twenty  or  twenty-five  feet 
beyond  the  verge  of  the  jj .ecipicc-. 

The  ridge  just  below  the  summit  is  a  scene  of  wild 
confusion,  for  the  ''((cky  ledges  have  b('en  split  up  and 
wtdged  apart  b\-  frost  antl  storms  till  they  appear  as  giant 
blocks  of  stone  ten  or  fifteen  feet  high,  between  tht;  crevi- 
cc;s  of  which  one  may  catch  glimpses  of  the  valley  and 
forests  thousands  of  f  ct  below. 

The  view  from  the  summit  of  Eagle  Peak  is  magnifi- 
cent and  well  worth  the  labor  of  the  climb.  The  prox- 
imity of  Mount  Sir  Donald,  which  towers  more  than  1200 
feet  high'  •,  causes  its  sullen  precipices  to  appear  strikingly 
grand.      The  great  lllicellewaet  ni'vc,  with  its  twenty  square 


Mount  Sir  Donald,  from  Eagle  Peak. 


i 


i 


» 


» 


I 


P' 


a  ■ 


i 


■■ 


'I 


i^ 


( 


V 


'  I 


,0- 


If 

I! 


%       \ 


I 


P  Ih 


A  Magnificent  Panorama. 


miles  or  more  of  unbroken  snow  fiolds,  stretches  out  in  the 
distance  and  forms  part  of  the  eastern  horizon.  Thi.' 
ru|L,f,t,'-ed  appearance  of  the  Hermit  Rang-s  to  the  west,  witii 
its  sharj)  ridijes  and  needles,  is  perhaps  the  most  tumultu- 
ous part  in  all  this  wild  sea  of  mountain  peaks.  It  has 
been  stated  on  good  authority  that  from  Mount  Abbott,  a 
far  lower  ridge  on  the  farther  side  of  the  valley,  more  than 
one  hundred  and  twenty  individual  glaciers  may  be  counted, 
but  there  are  even  more  within  view  from  Kagle  Peak. 

W(;  remained  on  the  summit  till  nearly  three  o'clock, 
and  thereby  took  a  great  risk,  as  we  learnetl  afterwards  to 
our  exceeding  regret.  Before  leaving,  however,  we  built 
a  hiirh  cairn  and  fi.xed  several  handkerchiefs  amontr  the 
stones  so  as  to  render  it,  if  possible,  visible  from  the  valley 
below. 

In  our  descent  we  fountl  no  trouble  till  we  reached  tree 
line,  when  the  gathering  gloom  of  nightfall,  made  earlier 
by  a  cloudy  sky,  aroused  our  apprehensions  and  led  us  to 
a  serious  mistake.  Thinking  that  it  would  be  better  to 
follow  the  course  of  a  stream,  which  had  cut  out  a  deep 
ravine  in  the  mountain  side,  as  there  would  be  more  light, 
for  a  time  at  least,  we  commenced  our  descent  with  all  speed. 
We  soon  found  ourselves  in  a  trap,  as  the  sides  of  the  ravine 
grew  constantly  deeper  and  steeper  as  we  descended,  and 
it  was  at  length  impossible  to  get  out  at  all.  Floundering 
about  among  the  long  trailing  branches  of  alders,  our  ile- 
scent  soon  became  a  mixture  of  sliding,  falling,  and,  indeed, 
every  method  of  progress  save;  rational  walking.  Tlie 
darkness  came  on  rapidly,  as  the  days  were  short  and  the 


f 


128 


The  Canadian  Rockies. 


twilight  much  curtailed,  it  bciiiL,^  hitt;  in  the  .summer.  In 
an  iiour  it  became  so  absohitely  bhick  that  the;  foamy 
course  of  the  stream  we  followed  was  tlie  only  visible 
object,  as  even  tiie  stars  were  concealed  ami  their  lij^ht 
shut  out  l)y  a  heavy  coverin^,^  of  dark  cloud.  Sometimes 
the  lonj^,  prostrate  branches  of  thr;  aldtTs  would  catch  our 
feet  in  a  most  e.^asperaiinLj  manner,  anil  cause  one  or  the 
other  to  slide;  temporarily  head-foremost,  till  some  branch 
or  root  could  be  s(;i/((.l  in  the  hand  and  the  i)roL(ress 
arrested.  Once  I  saw  a  white  object,  just  below  me  ap- 
parently, and  thinkinj;'  it  mi_L,dU  be  a  stone,  was  about  to 
lower  myself  in  fancied  security  when  suddenly  I  realized 
that  it  was  the  foam  of  the  stream  some  fifty  feet  below, 
and  that  we  were  on  the  edtje  of  a  precipice  !  At  another 
time  I  f(;ll  headlonL,^  throu_t,di  a  bush  and  brought  up  against 
some  threat  obstacle  around  which  I  wound  my  les;",  not 
knowing  wheth(;r  it  mi>;ht  be  a  hui^^e  jrrizzly  or  some  other 
denizen  of  the  forest,  when  sure  enough  it  moved  away, 
and  rolled  over  my  leg.  It  was  a  great  boulder  nearly  a 
yard  in  diameter. 

This  nocturnal  d(;scent  was  tht;  most  bitter  experience 
I  have  ever  had  in  mountain  climbing,  as  the  anxiety  and 
worry  conseciuent  iijjon  each  movement  were  exquisitely 
painful,  and  continued  three  hours.  Arri\'ed  at  the  bot- 
tom of  the  slope  at  ten  o'clock  p.m.,  we  found  ourselves  in 
the  mass  of  fallen  logs  and  tlebris  near  the  stream,  and 
likewise  near  the  trail.  Umler  the  spell  of  a  certain  as- 
surance that  a  few  minutes  more  of  toil  would  bring  us 
out  to  the  trail,  we  thought  nothing  of  falling  into  holes 


I 


1 


A  Terrible  lixpcriciicc. 


I  29 


four  or  five  feet  deep,  as  we  pliinj^fed  about  amonj^  the  lo<js, 
or,  \vh(;n  walkiiiL;"  on  them,  occasionally  stepfx.'d  off  into 
space. 

W^e  arrived  at  tin;  Glacier  House  at  10:30  r.  m.,  when; 
we  were  surrounded  by  anxious  friends,  and  rej^r.ded  !))■  a 
hot  dinner  of  roasted  chickens  and  all  manner  of  tjood 
thini^^s,  such  as  one  always  finds  at  this  most  excellent 
inn.  At  such  times,  more  than  at  any  other,  one  ap- 
preciates the  thouLjhtfulness  anel  care  of  a  kind  host. 

Our  experience;  on  l-laiL^de  I'eak,  tryinj^"  as  it  was,  could 
not  equal  that  of  two  jj^entlemeii  who,  in  1S94,  made  an 
attempt  to  scale  the  mountain.  Unfortunalely  they  faileil 
to  reach  the  summit,  and,  wors(;  still,  wen;  benighted 
among  the  crags  and  cHffs  at  a  high  altitude,  where 
they  spent  the  night  in  misery.  Finding  themselves  in 
their  attempt  unabh;  to  advance  farther  for  some  reason 
or  other,  they  were  desc(;nding,  when  it  suddenly  occurred 
to  them  that  they  were  on  a  different  ledge  from  any  they 
had  seen  hitherto.  Nightfall  was  bringing  raj)idly  increas- 
ing darkness,  and  it  seemed  impossibU;,  at  length,  either 
to  proceed  farther  or  even  to  r(;trace  the  steps  by  which 
they  hatl  come.  Here,  tlu;n,  on  a  narrow  ledge  overlook- 
ing a  precipice,  the  awful  de[)ths  of  which  were  rendered 
still  more  terrible  in  the  obscurity  of  gathering  gloom,  and 
with  their  feet  dangling  over  the  verge,  they  were  forced 
to  remain  motionless,  and  wear  out  the  long  night  in  cold 
and  sleepless  suffering.  The  next  morning  a  searcli  party 
was  organized,  and  they  were  conducted  back  to  the  com- 
forts of  the  Glicier  House,  much  to  the  relief  of  their 


< 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


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Sciences 
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33  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTER,  NY.  14580 

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Ti}c  Canadian  Rockies. 


anxious  friends,  but  nearly  prostrated  by  their  terrible 
experience. 

Later,  we  made  an  ascent  of  Mount  Cheops,  a  strikinjj^ 
peak  with  a  most  perfect  representation  of  a  pyramid 
forming  its  summit.  The  view  is  fine  but  not  worth  the 
labor  of  the  climb,  as  the  ascent  of  the  lower  slopes  seems 
interminably  long  and  tedious  by  reason  of  the  underbrush 
and  steep  slope.  Like  Eagle  i'eak,  the  summit  revealed 
no  evidence  of  previous  conquests,  and  it  wMl  probably  be 
a  long  time  before  any  one  will  be  so  far  led  astray  as  to 
make  a  similar  attempt. 

Trails  and  good  foot-paths  lead  from  the  Glacier  House 
to  points  of  interest  in  the  vicinity.  The  chief  resort  is 
the  Great  Glacier  itself,  where  one  may  witness  all  the 
phenomena  of  a  large  ice  stream,  or  ascend  to  the  vast 
jicvi',  and  wander  about  on  a  nearly  level,  and  apparently 
limitless,  snow  field. 

Mount  Abbott  is  an  easy  and  favorite  climb,  and  is 
often  successfully  attempted  by  women  who  are  endowed 
with  considerable  strength  and  endurance.  On  the  way, 
a  small  pool,  called  Marion  Lake,  is  passed.  It  nestles 
among  the  cliffs  and  forests  on  the  mountain  side  far 
above  the  valley.  It  is  the  only  lake  I  know  of  in  the 
Selkirks.  This  is  one  of  the  remarkable  differences  be- 
tween the  Selkirks  and  the  Summit  Range  of  the  Rockies  : 
the  absence  of  lakes  in  one  region,  and  their  great  number 
in  the  other.  The  great  majority  of  lakes  in  the  Rockies 
are  very  small  and  often  do  not  deserve  the  name,  as  they 
are  mere  pools  a  few  yards  across.     But  their  small  size  in 


Future  of  the  Sclkirks. 


»3i 


no  way  detracts  from  their  beauty,  and  it  is  most  imfortu- 
nate  that  the  Sclkirks  possess  so  few  of  these,  the  most 
charmins;  of  all  features  in  mountain  landscapes. 

The  Selkirks  arc  hut  little  known,  because  the  dense 
forests  and  the  immense  size  of  the  fallen  loirs  forbid  the 
use  of  horses  almost  altoocther,  and  will  evir  prc\  cut  the 
mcmntaineer  from  makint;  extended  journeys  into  the  h  sser 
known  parts  of  the  mountains,  unless  trails  are  cut  and  kcjjt 
in  i^ood  order.  At  present  all  provisions,  blankets,  and 
tents  must  be  packed  on  men's  backs,  a  method  that  is 
both  laborious  and  expensive. 

It  must  eventually  result,  however,  that  these  moun- 
tains will  prove  a  most  popular  resort  for  climbers  and 
sportsmen.  The  attractions  for  either  class  are  verv  '-^reat. 
I'^or  the  mountaineer,  they  present  all  the  grandeur  and 
beauty  of  the  Swiss  Alps,  with  difificulties  of  snow  and 
rock  climbing  sufficient  to  add  zest  to  the  sport.  The 
multitude  of  unclimbed  peaks  likewise  offers  great  oppor- 
tunities for  those  ambitious  for  new  conquests.  The 
immense  annual  snowfall  causes  many  of  the  higher  peaks 
to  assume  an  appearance  of  dazzling  beauty  and  brillianc), 
while  the  Alpine  splendor  of  these  higher  altitudes  is 
strongly  contrasted  with  the  dark-green  color  of  the 
forested  valleys. 

For  the  sportsmen,  too,  there  are  abundant  opportuni- 
ties to  hunt  the  larger  game.  On  the  mountains  are 
numerous  herds  of  mountain  goats  and  sheep,  while  the 
forests  abound  in  bears— the  black  bear  and  the  grizzly  or 
silver  tip.    During  the  berry  season,  these  animals  frequent 


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The  Canadian  Rockies. 


the  valleys  and  are  often  seen  by  the  railroad  men  even 
near  the  Glacier  House,  One  wntleman  had  the  «rood 
fortune;  to  shoot  a  black  bear  from  a  window  of  the  hotel 
last  year.  Of  course,  there  is  practically  no  danger  from 
even  tlie  griz/Jy  bear  in  this  immediate  vicinity,  as  they 
have  learned  to  fear  man  from  being  frequently  shot  at, 
and  have  long  since  lost  the  ferocity  which  they  sometimes 
show  in  extremely  wild  and  unfrequented  regions. 

No  mention  has  yet  been  made  of  the  kind  of  trees  to 
be  found  in  a  .Selkirk  forest.  Almost  all  the  varieties  of 
coniferous  trees  observed  in  the  Rockies,  except  the 
Lyall's  larch,  occur  in  the  .Selkirks,  though  each  variety 
attains  much  largtT  size.  The  cedar,  the  hemlock,  the 
Douglas  fir,  and  the  Engelmann's  spruce  are  most  conspic- 
uous and  form  the  chief  part  of  the  forest  trees.  luich  of 
these  sp(;cies  here  attains  a  diameter  of  from  three  feet 
upward,  even  to  six  or  seven,  and  a  height  of  from  150 
to  200  feet. 

Nothmg  is  more  enjoyable  than  to  take  one  of  the 
mountain  trails  ami  enter  the  depths  of  the  forest,  there  to 
rest  in  quiet  contemplation  where  trees  alone  are  visible 
in  the  limited  circle  of  view.  On  a  quiet  afternoon,  when 
all  is  calm  and  not  a  breath  of  air  is  stirring,  the  long, 
gray  moss  hangs  in  pendent  tufts  from  the  lower  branches 
of  the  giant  trees,  and  one  feels  that  this  is  indeed  another 
Acadian  forest  of  which  Longfellow  sings  : 


"  This  is  the  forest  primeval.    The  murmuring  pines  and  the  hemlocks, 
Bearded  with  moss  and  in  garments  green,  indistinct  in  the  twilight. 


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The  Forest  Primeval. 


•33 


Stand  like  Dniidsof  M,  witli  voices  sad  and  proplietic,— 
Stand  like  harpers  hoar,  with  htards  that  rest  on  their  bosoms." 

Such  indeed  is  a  Selkirk  forest. 

The  idea  that  is  at  len^rth  developed  In  the  niind,  by  a 
loiii;  rest  in  one  of  these  deep  and  sombre  forests,  is  that 
of  the  majesty,  and  silent,  motionless  power  of  vej^etation. 
The  creations  of  the  vej^^etable  world  stand  on  all  sides. 
They  \vellnijL,di  cover  the  jrround  ;  they  limit  the  horizon, 
and  conceal  the  sky.  The  tall  cedars  have  a  shreddy  bark 
that  han(,^s  in  lonj^^  strips  on  their  tapering  boles  and  makes 
the  stron<rest  contrast  with  the  rough  bark  of  the  firs.  What 
could  be  more  unlike,  too,  among  evergreens,  than  the 
spreading  fanlike  foliage  of  the  cedars,  the  needle-like 
leaves  of  the  firs,  and  the  delicate  spray  of  the  hemlocks? 

What  a  vast  amount  of  energy  has  been  preserved  in 
these  forest  giants  ;  with  what  a  crash  they  would  fall  to 
the  ground  ;  and  what  a  quantity  of  heat — which  they  have 
stored  up  from  the  sun  through  hundreds  of  summers — 
would  they  give  out  when  burned  slowly  in  a  fireplace  ! 
If  we  examine  a  single  needle,  or  a  thin  shaving  of  wood, 
under  the  microscope,  and  obtain  a  glimpse  of  the  com- 
plexity of  the  cells  and  pores  with  which  this  vegetable 
life  is  carried  on ;  or  consider  the  wonderful  processes  by 
which  the  flowers  are  fertilized,  and  the  cones  mature,  so 
that  the  species  may  never  die  out ;  and  then  regard  the 
immensity  of  the  whole  forest  stretching  boundless  in 
every  direction,  all  constructed  from  an  infinity  of  atoms, 
the  mind  and  imagination  are  soon  led  beyond  their 
depth. 


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Tlic  Canadian  Rockies. 


Now  let  the  pure,  cold  lis^lit  of  scienct ,  with  its  precise 
and  I'x.ict  hiws.  fade  away  into  the  wariii.  mellow  il^Iow  of 
romance,  till  we  picture  tht;  forest  as  an  e|)itome  of  human 
life,  with  its  stru,L;|,des,  its  sufft^rin^,  and  the  slow  but  cer- 
tain progress  from  infancy  to  old  ajj[e  and  death.  I'"or 
here,  amonj^  the  forest  trees,  are  every  age  and  condition 
represented  Heneath,  are  young  trees,  vigorous  and  full 
of  promise,  hoping,  as  it  were,  some  ilay  t(^  push  their 
highest  branches  abovi'  the  general  plane  of  tree  to|)s  and 
share  the  life-giving  sun,  though,  during  the  struggle, 
many  will  surely  weaken  and  dit;  in  the  jjale  and  inefficient 
light  beneath  the  older  trees.  Then  there  are  the  larger 
tnM.'s  in  t\\r  full  glory  of  tiieir  prime,  with  massive  trunks, 
straight  and  tall,  giving  promise  of  many  years  of  life 
yet  to  come  ;  ami  t'malh',  the  giants  of  the  forest,  their 
branches  torn  off  by  storms  or  their  trunks  rent  and 
scarred  by  lightning.  Hverything  about  the  oldest  trees 
betokens  the  slow  decay  ami  all-concpiering  death,  which 
is  gradually  sapping  their  life  blood  and  pointing  to  their 
certain,  fmal  destruction.  The  long,  gray  moss,  gently 
waving  in  the  faintest  breath  of  air,  hangs  from  every 
limb,  and  makes  these  venerable  monarchs  resemble 
bearded  patriarchs,  which  have  stooil  here  perhaps  a 
thousand  years  battling  with  the  elements,  the  wiml.  and 
the  lightning,  silent  witnesses  to  the  relentless  progress  of 
the  seasons. 

Trees  have,  however,  all  the  (jualifications  of  living 
forever.  There  is  no  reason  why  a  tree  shoulil  ever  die, 
were  it  not  for  some  unnatural  cause,  such  as  the  fury  of 


Ai^c  of  'rrccs. 


135 


a  storm,  the  rcndins^^  power  of  lij^luniiij^f,  or  the  destructive 
inriuencc  of  insects  and  parasites.  In  Cahfornia.  In  the 
Mariposa  drove,  some  of  the  ^iant  reihvood  treiis  are 
twenty-tive  himdreil  years  okl.  I'hey  hey^an  to  ,i;ro\v 
wlien  Solon  was  makini^f  laws  for  the  ancient  d reeks, 
'liiese  wonderful  jifroves  of  California  are,  howevi:r.  ex- 
ceptional, and  have  survived  by  reason  of  the  clemenc\-  of 
the  climate  ami  the  fact  that  the  aroniatic  redwood  is 
avoided  by  insects.  In  most  forests,  the  laws  of  chance 
and  [)robability  rarely  allow  the  sturdiest  trees  to  run  the 
tjamut  of  more  than  a  few  hundred  years,  and  if  they 
attain  a  thousand  years,  it  is  their  "  fourscore — by  reason 
of  strenjTth." 

In  the  Selkirks,  one  sees  the  ground  covered  with  huge 
tree  trunks  in  all  sta^^es  of  decay,  slowly  molderini^  away 
into  a  newer  and  richer  soil  ;  some  have  yielded  to  the 
natural  processes  of  decaj',  others  to  accident  or  forest 
fires,  while  in  some  places  winter  avalanches  ha\e  cut  off 
the  tops  of  the  trees  fort)-  or  fifty  feet  above  the  ground, 
and  left  nothing  but  a  maze  of  tall  stumps  where  once 
stood  a  noble  forest. 

The  Selkirk  forests  are  dense  and  sometimes  almost 
magnificent  in  their  luxuriance,  and  vastly  surpass  the 
forests  of  the  eastern  range  in  the  variety  of  species,  the 
size  of  the  trees,  and  the  luxuriant  rankness  of  vcL^etable 
growth.  At  the  same  time  they  do  not  approach  the 
almost  tropical  vigor  and  grandeur  of  the  Pacific  Coast 
forests,  where  a  green  carpet  of  moss  covers  the  trunks 
and    branches    of    the   huge    trees,   and    even    ferns    find 


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The  (anacliaii  Rockies. 


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nourishmciU  in  this  rich  covcrinj^.  alch-cl  hy  thi'  rcckinjj^, 
humid  atmosplu'rc,  on  hranchcs  forty  or  tifty  firt  al)0\c 
the  i^rroiiiul.  In  such  a  forrst.  tlu'  ferns  and  brakes  reach 
a  heij^ht  of  six  or  eiulu  feet  al>ovf  the  j^round,  the  various 
mosses  attain  a  remark. ihle  tlevelopment,  and  hanj^f  in 
\on^,  green  tresses,  a  yard  in  lenj^^th,  from  e\i'ry  branch, 
and  exaijj^aTate  tht;  size  of  tl)e  smaUer  branches,  while  the 
beautiful  tufts  of  the  llypnum  mosses  appear  like  the 
fronds  of  small  ferns,  so  larj;(;  do  they  become. 

The  forests  of  the  Summit  Ranjj^e,  the  Selkirks,  and  the 
Pacific  Coast  are  almost  perfect  indexes  of  the  humidity 
of  the  climate.  The  .Selkirk  forests  are  less  vigorous 
than  those  of  the  I'.icil'ic  coast,  but  more  so  than  the  light 
antl  comparatively  o[)en  forests  of  the  Summit  Range, 
where  the  climati;  is  much  drier. 


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CHAPTI'R    IX. 

Mount  Assiii/'Mne ~ PnfiiiiUions  /or  I'hi/inx'  it— Camp  at  /feeiy's 
Creek— Crossi  II);  t/ic  Simpson  /'<tss — S/ioot  a  Pitck/forsi—A  AV/v ////>// 
Camp— A  Difuiilt  Sumo  /\rss—/hii nt  Timber— Xatiire  SouHiis— Dis- 
covery of  a  licaiitifiil  Lake — ///.»/  ■ '/!,■•  / '/>?.'  of  ^ fount  Assinihoinc  — 
Our  Camp  at  the  Hase  of  the  Afountain — Summer  Snou^-Storms — /nae- 
cessi/ii/ity  of  Afount  Assiniboine 

GKF'^AT  interest  was  .iroused  amoni,^  tourists  in 
the  suminfT  of  1S95,  Iiy  the  rcjjorts  of  a  rc- 
mari<abl<!  peak  south  of  lianff  named  Mount 
Assiniboine.  Accordinj;  to  current  accounts,  it  was  the 
hij;hest  mountain  so  far  discovered  between  the  Interna- 
tional boundary  and  the  rey^ion  of  Mounts  Brown  and 
Hooker.  Besiilcs  its  ^^reat  altitude,  it  was  said  to  he  ex- 
ceedinirly  steep  on  all  sides,  and  surrounded  by  charm- 
ing valleys  dotted  with  beautiful  lakes.  Ww  time  recpiircd 
to  reach  the  mountain  with  a  camping  outfit  and  pack- 
horses  was  said  to  be  from  five  to  seven  davs. 

The  romance  of  visiting  this  wild  and  interesting  region, 
hitherto  but  little  explored,  decided  me  to  use  one  month 
of  the  summer  season  in  this  manner.  By  oreat  (""ood  for- 
tune  I  met,  at  Banff,  two  gentlemen  likewise  bent  on  visit- 
ing the  same  region,  and  on  comparing  our  prospective 
plans,  it  appeared  that  mutual  advantage  would  be  gained 

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138 


The  Canadian  Rockies. 


by  joining  our  forces.  In  this  way  we  would  have  the 
pleasure  of  a  larger  company,  and  at  the  same  time 
the  oppoitunity  of  separating,  should  we  come  to  a 
disagreement. 

The  sixth  of  July  was  decided  on  as  the  date  for  our 
departu/e.  In  the  meantime,  we  made  frequent  visits  to 
the  log-house  of  our  outfitter,  Tom  Wilson,  who  was  to 
supply  us  with  horses,  our  entire  camping  outfit,  and 
guides.  Many  year*--  previously,  Wilson  had  packed  for 
the  early  railroad  surveyors,  and  had  thus  gained  a  valu- 
able experience  in  all  that  concerns  the  management  and 
care  of  pack-animals  among  the  difficulties  of  mountain 
trails.  In  the  past  few  years,  he  has  been  engaged  in 
supplying  tourists  with  camping  outfits  and  guides,  for 
excursions  among  the  mountains. 

TIk;  season  of  1895  was  very  backward,  and  there  was 
an  unusually  late  fall  of  snow  at  Banff,  in  the  middle  of 
June.  Moreover,  the  weather  hail  remained  so  cold  that 
the  snow  on  the  higher  passes  still  remained  very  deep, 
and  several  bands  of  Indians,  who  attempted  to  cross  the 
mountains  with  their  iiorses  late  in  June,  were  repulsed  by 
snow  six  or  eight  feet  deep. 

The  weather  continued  cold  and  changeable  during  the 
first  week  in  July.  In  the  meanwhile,  however,  our  prep- 
arations for  d(;parture  went  on  without  interruption,  and 
Wilson's  log-house,  where  the  supplies  and  camp  outfits 
were  safely  stored,  became  a  scene  of  busy  preparation. 

On  every  side  were  to  be  seen  the  various  necessaries 
of  camp  life  :    saddles  for  the  horses,   piles  of  blankets, 


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Preparation  for  Departure. 


'39 


here  aiul  there  ropes,  tents,  and  hobbles.  Great  heaps  of 
provisions  were  Hkewise  piled  up  in  apparent  confusion, 
thouj^h,  in  reality,  every  item  was  portioned  out  and  care- 
fully calculatetl.  Rashers  of  bacon  and  bags  of  flour 
comprised  the  main  bulk  of  the  provisions,  but  there  wen-, 
besides,  the  luxuries  ot  tea,  coffee,  and  sugar,  in  addition 
to  large  quantities  of  hard  tack,  dried  fruits  and  raisins, 
oatmeal,  and  cans  of  condensed  milk.  Pots  and  pails, 
knives,  forks,  and  spoons,  and  the  necessary  cooking 
utensils  were  collected  in  other  places.  Our  men  were 
already  engaged  for  the  trip,  and  were  now  busily  moving 
about,  seeing  tliat  everything  was  in  order,  the  saddle 
girths,  hobbles,  and  ropes  in  good  condition,  the  axes 
sharp,  and  the  ritles  bright  and  clean. 

At  length  the  sixth  of  July  came,  but  proved  showery 
and  wet  like  many  preceding  days.  Nevertheless,  our 
men  started  in  the  morning  for  the  first  camp,  which  was 
to  be  at  Heely's  Creek,  about  six  miles  from  Banff.  Our 
prospective  route  to  Mount  Assiniboine  was,  first,  over 
the  Simpson  Pass  to  the  Simpson  River,  and  thence,  by 
some  rather  uncertain  passes,  eastward,  toward  the  region 
of  the  mountain. 

Toward  the  middle  of  the  afternoon  we  started  on  foot 
for  Heely's  Creek,  where  our  men  were  to  meet  us  and 
have  the  camp  prepared.  Passing  northward  up  the  val- 
ley, we  followed  the  road  by  the  famous  Cave  and  Basin, 
where  the  hot  sulphur  water  bubbles  up  among  the  lime- 
stone formations  which  they  have  deposited  round  their 
borders.     The  Cave  appears  to  be  the  cone  or  crater  of 


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I40 


The  Canadian  Rockies. 


some  extinct  geyser,  and  now  a  passage-way  has  been  cut 
under  one  wall,  so  that  bathers  may  enjoy  hot  baths  in 
this  cavern.  A  single  opening  in  the  roof  admits  the 
light. 

A  short  time  after  leaving  these  interesting  places,  we 
had  to  branch  off  from  the  road,  and  plunge  into  a  burnt 
forest,  where  there  was  supposed  to  be  a  trail.  The  trail 
soon  faded  away  into  obscurity  among  the  maze  of  logs, 
and,  worse,  still,  it  now  came  on  to  rain  gently  but  con- 
stantly. After  an  hour  or  more  of  hard  work  we  came  to 
Heely's  Creek. 

The  camp  was  on  the  farther  side  of  the  creek,  and, 
after   shouting   several    times,    Peyto,  our    chief   packer, 

came  dash- 
ing vlown  on 
horseback, 
and  convey- 
ed us,  one 
at  a  time, 
across  the 
deep,  swift 
stream. 
Peyto  made 
an  ideal  pic- 
ture of  the 
wild  west, 
mounted  as 
he  was  on 
an      Indian 


PEYTO. 


Camp  at  Heely's  Creek. 


141 


steed,  with  Mexican  stirrups.  A  great  sombrero  hat  pushed 
to  one  side,  a  buckskin  shirt  ornate  with  Indian  fringes  on 
sleeves  and  seams,  and  cartridge  belt  holding  a  hunting 
knife  and  a  six-shooter,  recalled  the  romantic  days  of  old 
when  this  was  the  costume  throughout  the  entire  west. 

Our  encampment  consisted  of  three  tents,  prettily 
grouped  among  some  large  spruce  trees.  A  log  fire  was 
burning  before  each  tent,  and,  on  our  arrival,  fhe  cooks 
began  to  prepare  our  supper.  This  was  ni)-  first  night 
in  a  tent  for  a  year,  and  the  conditions  were  unfavor- 
able for  comfort,  as  we  were  all  soaked  through  by 
our  long  tramp  in  the  bush,  and,  moreover,  it  was  still 
raining.  Nevertheless,  we  were  all  contented  and  happy, 
our  clothes  soon  dried  before  the  camp  fires,  and  after 
supper  we  sang  a  few  popular  songs,  then  rollcxl  up  in 
warm  blankets  on  beds  of  balsam  boughs,  and  slept  peace- 
fully till  morning. 

I  was  awakened  at  dawn  by  the  cry  of  "  Breakfast  is 
ready,"  and  prepared  forthwith  to  do  it  ju.itice.  The  day 
appeared  cloudy  but  not  very  threatening.  1  n  an  hour  the 
packers  began  their  work,  and  it  was  wonderful  to  observe 
the  system  and  rapidity  of  their  movements.  The  horses, 
of  which  we  had  sc\en  as  pack-animals  and  two  for 
the  saddle,  were  caught  and  led  to  the  camp,  where  they 
were  tied  to  trees  near  by.  All  the  provisions,  tents,  cook 
boxes,  bags,  and  camp  paraphernalia  w(;re  then  made 
ready  for  packing.  There  are  three  prime  requisites  in 
skilful  packing.  'J'hey  are:  the  proper  adjustment  of 
the  blanket  and  saddle  so  that  it   will  neither  chafe  the 


':   1 

I,   ' 


'  '] 


•i 


■iPVi 


m 


l^i 


! 'MM! 


142 


The  Canadian  Rockies. 


back  of  the  horse  nor  sh'p  while  on  the  march;  the  exact 
balancing  of  the  two  packs  ;  and  the   knowledge  of  the 

"  d  i  a  ni  o  n  d 
hitch."  The 
w  o  n  tl  e  r  f  11 1 
combination 
of  turns  and 
loops  which 
go  to  make  up 
the  diamond 
hitch  has  al- 
ways been  sur- 
rounded with 
a  certain  sec- 
recy, and  jeal- 
ously guarded 

by  those  initiated  into  the  mysteries  of  its  formation.  It 
was  formerly  so  essential  a  part  of  the  education  of  a 
Westerner  that  as  much  as  one  hundred  dollars  have  been 
paid  for  the  privilege  of  learning  it.  Without  going  into 
details,  it  may  be  described  as  a  certain  manner  of  placing 
the  ropes  round  the  packs,  which,  once  learned,  is  exceed- 
ingly simple  to  tie  on  or  take  off.  and  it  will  hold  the  pack  in 
place  under  the  most  trying  circumstances.  The  name  is 
derived  from  a  diamond-shaped  figure  formed  by  the  ropes 
between  the  packs. 

By  eight  o'clock  our  procession  of  ten  horses  was  on 
the  march,  and,  after  passing  through  a  meadow  where 
every  blade  of   grass  was  hung  with  pendent  drops  of 


PACKING    THE    BUCKSKIN. 


4 


On  the  March. 


U3 


!'■, 


m 


fl 


mingled  rain  and  dew,  now  sparkling  bright  in  the  morn- 
ing sun,  we  came  to  the  trail.  Our  winding  cavalcade 
followed  near  the  creek  and  gradually  rose  above  its 
roaring  waters,  which  dashed  madly  over  many  a  cascade 
and  waterfall  in  its  rocky  course.  Our  pathway  rose  con- 
stantly and  led  us  through  rich  forests. 

Peyto  led  the  procession  mounted  on  an  Indian  horse 
called  Chiniquy,  not  a  very  noble-looking  beast,  but  a 
veteran  on  the  trail,  and,  by  reason  of  his  long  legs,  a 
most  trustworthy  animal  in  crossing  deep  rivers.  Then 
followed  the  pack-horses  with  the  men  int(;r- 
spersed  to  take  care  of  them,  and  the  rear 
was  brought  up  by  our  second  packer,  like- 
wise on  horseback.  The  greater  part  of 
the  time,  the  gentlemen  of  the  expedition 
kept  in  the  rear. 

The  flowers  were  in  all  the  glory  of  their 
spring-time  luxuriance,  and  we  discovered 
new  varieties  in  every  meadow,  swamp,  and 
grove.  Beside  the  several  varieties  of  ane- 
mones, the  yellow  columbines,  violets,  and 
countless  other  herbaceous  plants,  we  found, 
during  the  march  of  this  day,  six  kinds  of 
orchids.  Among  them  was  the  small  and 
beautiful,  purple  Calypso,  which  we  found 
in  bogs  and  damp  woods,  rearing  its  showy 
blossom  a  few  inches  above  the  ground. 
At  the  base  is  a  single  heart-shaped  leaf.  We  were  very 
much  pleased  to  find  this  elegant  and  rare  orchid  growing 


/ 


CALYPSO. 


i   1    i 


lit.;. 


if,.      Y   i 


m,  ]  ,■' 


h 


,;i 

\ 

j 

1- 

1 

•44 


The  Canadian  Rockies. 


so  abundantly  here.  There  is  a  certain  reij^al  nobihty  and 
elej^ance  pertaining  to  the  whole  family  of  orchids,  which 
elevates  them  above  all  plants,  and  places  them  nearest 
to  animate  creation.  Whether  we  find  them  in  high 
northern  latitudes,  in  cold  bogs,  or  in  dark  forests,  re- 
treating far  from  the  haunts  of  men,  avoiding  even  their 
own  kind,  solitary  and  unseen  ;  or  perhaps  crowded  on  the 
branches  of  trees  in  a  tropical  forest,  guarded  from  man  by 
venomous  serpents,  the  stealthy  jaguar,  stinging  insects 
and  a  fever-laden  air;  they  command  the  greatest  interest 
of  the  botanist  and  the  highest  prices  of  the  connoisseur. 

We  camped  at  about  two  o'clock,  not  far  from  the 
summit  of  the  Simpson  Pass,  in  a  valley  guarded  on  both 
sides  by  continuous  mountains  of  great  height. 

We  were  surprised  the  next  day,  on  reaching  the  sum- 
mit, to  find  the  pass  covered  with  snow,  heaped  in  great 
drifts,  ten  or  twenty  feet  deep,  among  the  trees.  The 
Simpson  Pass  is  only  6884  feet  above  tide,  and,  conse- 
quently, is  below  the  tree  line.  Near  the  summit  were  two 
small  ponds  still  frozen  over.  A  warm  sun  and  a  genial 
south  wind  were,  however,  rapidly  dissolving  the  snow 
and  reducing  it  to  slush,  while  clear  streams  of  water  were 
running  in  the  meadows  everywhere,  regardless  of  regular 
channels. 

As  we  began  our  descent  on  the  south  side,  a  great 
change  came  over  the  scene.  Two  hundred  feet  of  descent 
brought  us  from  this  snowy  landscape  to  warm  mountain 
slopes,  where  the  grass  was  almost  concealed  by  reason  of 
myriads  of   yellow   lilies    in   full   blossom,   mingled  with 


!|  ] 


■  ,■« 


The  Simpson  River. 


^45 


white  anemones.  These  banks  of  flowers,  resemblin^r  the 
artificial  creations  of  a  hol-house.  were  sometimes  sur- 
rounded on  all  sides  by  lincreriiii,^  patches  of  snow.  Such 
constant  and  sudden  change  is  characteristic  of  moun- 
tain climates,  where  a  few  warm  days  suffice  to  melt 
the  snow  and  coax  forth  the  flowers  with  surprisintJ- 
rapidity. 

The  trail  now  descended  rapidly,  and  led  us  through 
forests  much  denser  and  more  luxuriant  than  those  on  the 
other  side  of  the  pass.  Everything  betokened  a  moister 
climate,  and  the  character  of  the  vegetation  had  changed 
so  much  that  many  new  kinds  of  plants  appeared,  while 
those  with  which  we  were  familiar  grew  ranker  and  laro-er. 
We  had  crossed  the  continental  divide,  from  Alberta  into 
British  Columbia. 

Early  in  the  afternoon  we  came  to  our  camping  place 
on  the  banks  of  the  Simpson  River,  where  a  great  number 
of  teepee  poles  proved  this  to  be  a  favorite  resort  amoncT 

o 

the  Indians.  On  all  sides,  the  mountains  were  heavily 
forested  to  a  great  height,  and,  far  above,  gray  limestone 
cliffs  rose  in  bare  precipices  nearly  free  of  snow. 

On  July  the  ninth,  we  made  the  longest  and  most  ardu- 
ous march  so  far  taken.  Our  route,  at  first,  lay  down  the 
Simpson  River  for  several  miles.  While  the  horses  and 
men  followed  the  river  bed  almost  constantly,  making 
frequent  crossings  to  avail  themselves  of  better  walking 
and  short  cuts,  the  rest  of  us  necessarily  remained  on  one 
bank,  and  were  compelled  to  make  rapid  progress  to  keep 
up  with  our  heavily  laden  horses. 


m 


\  ■ 


ip  S 


I'i 


( 


Ml 


!•! 


I  ,-:« 


lO 


WW 


t 


I,  . .     r 


»l 


I 


'■i 


li; 


146 


The  Canadian  Rockies. 


After  we  had  proceedi-d  down  the  wiiulinj^  banks  of 
the  Simpson  River  for  about  two  hours,  our  pass,  a  mere 
notch  in  the  mountains,  was  descried  by  Mr.  B.,  who  had 
visited  this  region  two  years  before  in  company  with 
Wilson.  The  pass  lay  to  the  east,  and  it  was  necessary 
for  every  one  to  cross  the  river,  which  was  here  a  very 
swift  stream  nearly  a  yard  in  depth.  We  all  got  across  in 
safety,  but  had  not  advanced  into  tht;  forest  on  the  farther 
side  more  than  fifty  yartls,  when  one  of  my  pack-horses 
fell,  by  reason  of  the  rough  ground,  and  broke  a  leg.  It 
required  but  a  few  minutes  to  unpack  the  poor  beast  and 
end  his  career  with  a  rifle  bullet.  The  packs  were  then 
placed  on  old  Chiniquy,  the  faithful  beast  hitherto  used 
by  Peyto  as  a  saddle-horse. 

In  less  than  fifteen  minutes  we  were  ready  to  proceed 
again.  The  trail  now  led  us  up  very  steep  ascents  on  a 
forest-clad  mountain  slope  for  several  hours.  After  this 
we  entered  a  gap  in  the  mountains  and  followed  a  stream 
for  many  miles,  and  at  length  pitched  our  camp  late  in  the 
afternoon,  after  having  been  on  the  march  for  nine  hours. 

Every  one  was  rejoiced  at  the  prospect  of  a  rest  and 
something  to  eat.  Even  the  horses,  so  soon  as  their 
packs  and  saddles  were  removed,  showed  their  pleasure 
by  rolling  on  the  ground  before  hastening  off  to  a  meadow 
near  by.  Axes  were  busy  cutting  tent  poles  and  fire- 
wood. Soon  the  three  tents  were  placed  in  position,  and 
fires  were  burning  brightly  before  each,  while  the  cooks 
prepared  dinner. 

This    place    was    most    delightful.     The    immediate 


!l 


A   l)clisj;^htful  Camp. 


'47 


{Tround  was  quite  level  and  grassy.  Near  by  was  a  clear 
deep  stream  with  a  i^entle,  nearly  iniperce|)tihle  current, 
which  afforded  a  fine  place  for  a  cold  plunge.  The  moun- 
tains hemmed  in  a  valley  of  moderate  width  and  presented 
a  continuous  barrier  on  either  side  for  many  miles.  The 
general  character  of  the  scenery  was  like  that  of  the 
Sierra  Xevadas,  with  hi^jh  cliffs  partly  adorned  with  trees 
and  shrubs,  down  which  countless  waterfalls  fell  from 
heijrhts  so  j^reat,  that  they  resembled  threads  of  silver, 
wavini,r  from  side  to  side  in  the  chansrinij  currents  of  air. 
On  tlie  mountain  side  south  of  our  camp,  there  stood  a 
remarkable  castle  or  fortress  of  rock,  where  nature  had 
api)arently  indulged  her  fancy  in  copying  the  works  of 
men.  .So  perfect  was  the  representation,  that  no  aid  from 
the  imagination  was  required  to  see  ramparts,  embrasure.s, 
and  turreted  fortifications  of  a  castle,  in  the  remarkable 
pinnacles  and  clefts  cut  out  by  nature  from  the  horizontal 
strata.  The  next  morning,  every  one  was  more  or  less 
inspired  with  a  pleasing  anticipation  and  excitement,  as, 
according  to  reports,  we  had  not  far  to  go  before  we 
should  get  our  first  view  of  Mount  Assiniboine.  At  the 
end  of  our  valley  was  a  pass,  from  the  summit  of  which 
Mount  Assiniboine  could  be  seen.  The  trail  led  us 
through  a  forest  with  but  little  underbrush,  and  presently 
a  beautiful  lake  burst  on  our  view.  Two  of  us,  being 
somewhat  in  advance  of  the  pack  train,  caught  a  dozen 
fine  trout  here  in  a  very  short  time,  and  were  only  inter- 
rupted by  the  arrival  of  the  horses  and  men.  The  fish 
were  so  numerous  thai  they  could  be  seen  everywhere  on 


lii:  . 


r- 


f 


m 


148 


The  Canadian  Rockies. 


the  hcntoin,  ami  at  the  appearance  of  our  artificial  (lies 
on  the  wati'r,  several  fish  would  rise;  at  once. 

In  half  an  hour,  the  summit  of  our  pass  appeareil  over 
the  tree  tops,  and  rose,  apparently,  500  feet  hij^her.  The 
state  of  the  |)ass\vas,  however  such  as  to  cool  our  enthusi- 
asm deciiledly.  It  was  completely  coveri-d  with  snow  to 
a  jrreat  depth,  which  made  it  seem  probable  that  we  would 
not  succeed  in  sj^ettins^  the  horses  over.  As  this  could  not 
be  proved  from  our  position.  W(!  pushed  on,  determined 
to  ov(,'rc<  line  all  difficulties.  The  snow  ijt.'^an  to  appc;ar, 
at  first,  in  small  patches  in  shady  places  amonjj;  the  forest 
trees,  then  in  lartje  drifts  antl  finally,  everywhere  except 
on  the  most  (.;xposed  slopes.  The  trail  had  been  lost  for 
some  time,  buried  deep  in  the  snow.  Our  proj^^ress  was 
not  difficult,  however,  as  the  forest  had  assumed  the 
thin  and  open  nature  characti-ristic  of  hi.ujh  altitudes,  and 
it  was  possii)le  to  proci^ed  in  any  direction.  Our  horses 
strutftded  on  bravely,  and  by  dint  of  placinj^  all  the  men 
in  front  and  breaking  down  a  pathway,  we  manaijed  to 
effect  passa'j^es  over  loni,^  strtjtches  where  the  snow  was 
five  or  six  feet  deep.  After  the  tree  line  had  been 
reached,  we  w(.;re  more  fortunate,  as  a  lons^  narrow 
stretch,  free;  of  snow  led  ([uite  to  the  top  of  the  pass, 
throui^h  the  otherwise  unbroken  snow  fields.  A  threat 
cornict;  of  snow  appeared  on  our  rijj^ht  near  the  top  of  the 
pass  and  showed  a  ilepth  of  more  than  forty  feet. 

Near  the  top  of  the  pass  the  travelling;  was  much 
easier,  ami  in  a  few  minutes  w(;  were  looking"  over  the 
summit  across  a  wide  valley  to  a  range  of  rough  moun- 


'i  i! 


A   Difticiilt  Show    Pass. 


149 


••^^^ 


tains  hun^  with  jjaiicrs.  Mc'vond  ihcin.  and  ri^in-  far 
al)()vc,  coulil  be:  sL'L-n  thi;  sharp  crest  of  Mount  Assinil)oinc, 
faintly  out- 
lined aij^ainst 
the  sky  in  a 
smoky  atmos- 
phere The 
i  n  ter\-eninj^f 
wide  valley 
revealed  a 
jj^reat  expanse 
of  burnt  for- 
e  s  t.  T  h  e 

dreary  waste 
of  burnt  tim- 
ber was  only 
relieved  by 
two  lakes, 
several  miles 
distant,  rest- 
iuLj  in  a  notch 
anion^-  the 
m  o  u  n  t  ains. 
The;  nearer 
was  about  a 
mile  in  length, 
while  slit^htly 
beyond,  and 
at    a    higher    elevation,   was   the    second,    a    mere    pool 


m^ 


APPROACHING  THE  PASS. 


•i  '  h 


!>' 


)j 


'  i  ■ 

ii,;?    J, 


m 


'50 


The  Canadian  Rockies. 


I 


of  (lark  blue   water,    resting  against  tin:  moraine   of  a 
glacier. 

in  the  valley,  a  meadow  near  a  large  stream  seemed 
to  offer  the  hest  chances  for  a  camp,  in  an  hour  we 
reached  this  spot  after  a  hard  descent.  Some  of  our 
horses  displayed  great  sagacity  in  selecting  the  safest  and 
easiest  passages  hetwiien  and  arouml  the  logs,  and  gave 
evidence  of  their  previous  experience  in  this  kind  of  work. 

In  oriler  to  rest  the  men  and  horses,  after  the  arduous 
marches  of  the  past  forty-eight  hours,  we  decided  to  re- 
main an  entire  day  at  this  place.  We  were  also  an.xious 
to  explore  the  two  lakes,  as  they  seemetl  to  offer  fair 
promise  of  beautiful  scenery  and  interesting  geological 
formation.  Our  camp  was  surrounded  on  all  sides  by 
burnt  forests  and  charred  logs,  and  so  offered  but  little  of 
the  picturescpie.  A  partial  compensation  was  enjo\ed. 
however,  by  reason  of  the  great  variety  and  numi  -  • 
song  birds  which  were  now  nesting  in  a  small  swamp  near 
by.  This  bog  was  clothed  in  a  rich  covering  of  grass,  and 
here  our  horses  revelled  in  the  abundance  of  feed,  while 
some  small  l)ushes  scattered  here  and  there  afforded  shelter 
and  homes  for  several  species  of  birds.  All  day  long  and 
even  far  into  the  night  we  were  entertained  by  their  melo. 
dies.  The  most  persistent  singer  of  all  was  the  white- 
crested  sparrow,  whose  sweet  little  air  of  six  notes  was 
repeated  every  half  minute  throughout  the  entire  day,  be- 
ginning with  the  first  traces  of  dawn.  Perhaps  our  atten- 
tion was  more  attracted  to  the  sounds  about  us  because 
there  was  so  little  to  interest  the  eye  in  this  place.     Smoke 


Nature  Sonnets. 


'5' 


from  distant  forest  firi:.s  ohsciirct!  whatever  tlu-rc  was  in 
the  way  of  mountain  scentTy,  while  the  waste  of  l)urnt 
timber  was  most  unattractive,  A  warm,  soft  wiml  hlew 
constantly  u\)  the  valley  and  made  dull  inoaninj^s  aiul 
weird  sounds  amonj,'  the  dead  trees,  where  strips  of  ilricd 
bark  or  splinters  of  wood  vibrated  in  the  brec^ze.  The 
rushini^  stream,  fifty  yards  from  our  camp,  j^avt;  out  a  con- 
stant roar,  now  louder,  now  softer,  accordinj^  as  the  wind 
chan^'ed  direction  and  carried  the  sound  towards  or  awa) 
from  us.  The  thunders  of  occasional  avalanches,  the  loutl 
reports  of  stones  fallinj^^  on  the  mountain  sides,  were 
minijled  with  the  varied  sounds  of  thi;  wind,  the  rustlinjj^ 
of  the  ,tjrass,  the  moanini^i^  trec-s,  and  the  soul^s  of  birds. 
These  were  all  pure  nature  sounds,  most  (Mijoyabic-  and 
elcvatinnr.  Thoujrh  but  partially  appreciatixl  at  the  time, 
such  experiences  lin^(!r  in  the  memory  and  help  make  up 
the  complex  associations  of  pleasun.'s  whereby  one  is  led 
to  return  ajjain  and  ajj;ain  to  the  mountains,  the  forests, 
and  the  wilderness. 

Our  time,  which  was  set  aside  for  this  region,  now 
beinjr  consumed,  we  started  on  July  the  twelfth  for  the 
valley  at  the  base  of  Mount  Assiniboine,  where  it  was 
probable  that  we  should  camp  for  a  period  of  two  weeks 
or  more.  Our  route  lay  toward  the  end  of  the  valley  and 
thence  around  a  projectin<^  spur  of  the  mountain  which  cut 
off  our  view.  In  about  two  hours  our  hors(;s  were 
struggling  up  the  last  steep  slope  near  the  summit  of  the 
divide.  I  had  delayed  for  a  photograph  of  a  small  lake, 
so  the  horses  and  men  were  ahead.     When  at  leuijth  I 


If 


Hi.  IS 


fi 


( 


'' 


I  « 


'5: 


riu'  (  .m.uliaii  Kockics. 


s;;iiiicil  the  top  I  foiiiul  th.il  ,\  inisphucti  pack  had  caused 
ilclav.  and  so  I  om  ridok  the  ciiliri'  parly  on  tlu-  Ixudcrs  ol 
.1  most  hcaiililnl  slid  i  dl  walci'.  1  he  Iranslorniation  was 
ncarlv  iiisiantancoiis.  llic  liurnt  tiinhcr  was  idnipl<'tfly 
shut  out  Iron)  view  l)\  the  low  ridj^c  we  had  just  passed 
«)ver,  anil  we  entered  ouce  more  a  n';_;ion  ol  L;i'e<'n  forests. 
TIk'  lake  was  \'>n\j^  .\\)[\  narrow  ;  on  the  larlher  side, 
hemmed  in  l)\  rock  slides  and  clills  ol  the  mountains,  hut 
on  the  west  side  .1  trail  led  alon;^  the  windilli;  shore  amoiie 
lari'h  and  spruce  tri'<s.  In  m. uu'  shady  nooks  alone  the 
hanks  ol  the  lake  were  siiow-drilts,  under  the  trees  or 
hi'hiiul  proieetinj^  rocks.  So  loui;  had  winter  liiii^ered 
this  season  that  pari  ol  ihe  lake  was  still  eo\("red  with  ice. 
I  ,aree  Ira'.MUents  ol  ice  were  driltiui^ down  the  lake  and 
l)reakinL;  anions;  the  ripples.  Near  the  shore  in  sonu' 
placi's.  the  water  was  Tilled  with  thousands  ol  narrow, 
needledike  pieics  o|  iic  se\'eral  iiuhes  loui;  .md  perhaps 
thick  .is  a  m.iti  h.  which.  1>\  their  ruhliim;  l()i;etb<'r  in  the 
mo\ine  water,  madi  .1  L'.cntle  suhdued  murmin"  like  tlu' 
ruslhuL^  ol  a  silken  'jown.  When  ice  is  t'Xjxised  to  a 
hrii^ht  sun  lor  se\(iMi  ,la\s,  it  shows  its  internal  structiu'e 
in'  sei)aratin^  into  vertical  cohmms,  with  a  Lorain  like  that 
o(  wood.  I  h''  ice  needles  which  wt'  saw  IkuI  ht'en  formed 
during  the  last  sta^^es  ol  this  wondi-rlul  process. 

The  Indians  had  nuule  a  most  iwcellenl  trail  rotiiul  the 
lake,  as  lfe(|ueiuly  h.ippeiis  in  an  open  countr\'.  Wher- 
I'ver  dense  hrush  or  much  fallen  timber  occur,  the  trail 
usual!)'  disa|»pears  alto_i;cther,  onl)-  to  he  discoveretl  a^ain 


^IcT 


i;ul  ciuiscci 
borders  of 
nation  was 
■oni|)l('tcl\- 
list  passed 
en  forests, 
iher  side, 
1  tains,  l)ur 
ore  anion*^ 

alonj^  the 
1'  trees  or 
r  limbered 
1  with  iee. 

lake  and 
■  in  soini" 
il  narrow. 
il  perhaps 
her  in  the 
r  like  tlie 
)sed    to    a 

I  strncture 

II  h'k<'  th.il 
en  formed 


Noii/i   l.akr. 


'!  r 


round  the 
^  W'her- 
,  tin:   trail 


;retl  aj;am 


f. 

1 

I 


i    '■> 


6      i 


I's 


"'-^aif 


I'> 


Iff  I?  I 


\\ 


II 

!      f 

i 


First  View  of  Mt.  Assiniboinc. 


153 


ll 


where  there  is  less  need  for  it.  It  is  said  that  a  trail, 
once  made,  will  be  jireserved  by  the  various  game  ani- 
mals of  the  country.  In  fact,  there  were  quite  recent 
tracks  of  a  mountain  i^oat  in  the  path  we  followed  around 
the  lake. 

The  trail  closely  followed  the  water's  edge  and  led  us  to 
the  extreme  end  of  the  lake  and  thence  eastward,  where, 
having  left  this  beautiful  sheet  of  water,  we  passed  through 
a  grove  for  a  very  short  space  and  came  at  once  to  another 
smaller,  and  possibly  still  more  beautiful,  sheet  of  water. 
Simultaneously  the  magnificent  and  long-expected  vision 
of  Mount  Assiniboine  appeared.  It  was  a  most  maj(.stic 
spire  or  wedge  of  rock  rising  out  of  great  snow  fields, 
and  resembling  in  a  striking  manner  the  Matterhorn  of 
Switzerland. 

It  would  be  impossible  to  describe  our  feelings  at  this 
sight,  which  at  length,  after  several  days  of  severe  march- 
ing, now  suddenly  burst  upon  our  view.  The  shouts  of 
our  men,  together  with  the  excitement  and  pleasure  de- 
picted in  every  face,  were  sufficient  evidence  of  our  impres- 


sions. 


Aft 


er   a   short 


.'d    to 


pause,    wi  lie    we    encleavore 

nee    and    gain   some  true 


estimate    the   height    and   dista 

idea  of    the    mountain,   all    moved    on    rapidly    through 

alternating  groves  and  meadows  to 

This  was  at  length  selected  about  a  half  mile  from  the 

pi; 


our  camping  place 


ice  where  we  first  saw  Mount  Assiniboine.      H 


c;re  was  a 


lak 


e  nearly  a  mile  long,  which  reached  up  nearly  to  the 


base  of  the  mountain,  from  which  it 


was  separated  by  a 


'If' 


r     \ 


A 

i 

..  '^i 

?i; 

« 

i 
1 

' 

■  t 

;  1; 

1 

it 

154 


The  Canadian  Rockies. 


glacier  of  considerable  size.  Our  camp  was  on  a  terrace 
above  the  lake,  near  the  edge  of  a  forest.  A  small  stream 
ran  close  to  our  tent,  from  which  we  could  obtain  water 
for  drinking  and  cooking  purposes.  The  lake  was  in  the 
bottom  of  a  wide  valley,  which  extended  northwards  from 
our  camp  for  several  miles,  and  then  opened  into  another 
valley  running  east  and  west.  The  whole  place  might  be 
described  as  an  open  plain  among  mountains  of  gentle 
slope  and  moderate  altitudes,  grouped  about  Assiniboine 
and  its  immediate  spurs. 

Our  camp  was  7000  feet  above  sea-level,  and  this  was 
the  mean  height  of  the  valley  in  all  this  vicinity.  On 
mountain  slopes  this  would  be  about  the  upper  limit  of 
tree  growth,  but  here,  owing  to  the  fact  that  the  whole 
region  was  elevated,  the  mean  temperature  was  slightly 
increased,  and  we  found  trees  growing  as  high  as  7400  or 
7500  feet  above  sea-level.  Nevertheless,  the  general  char- 
acter of  the  vegetation  was  sub-alpine.  Many  larches 
were  mingled  with  the  balsam  and  spruce  trees  in  the 
groves,  and  extensive  areas  were  destitute  of  trees  alto- 
gether. These  moors  were  clothed  with  a  variety  of  bushy 
plants,  mostly  dwarfed  by  the  rigor  of  the  climate,  while 
here  and  there  a  small  balsam  tree  could  be  seen,  stunted 
and  d(;formed  by  its  long  contest  for  life,  and  bearing  many 
dead  branches  among  those  still  alive.  These  bleached 
and  lifeless  limbs,  with  their  thick,  twisted  branches  resist- 
ing the  axe,  or  even  the  a()proach  of  a  wood-cutter,  resem- 
bled those  weird  and  awful  illustrations  of  Uore,  where 


!  t: 


Summit  LaAr,  near  Monuf  Assimboim\ 


I  : 


T 


\  !\ 


I 


:  'I' 


-r-r-T- 


i 


■  i 


J 


•ff;:.  \ 


J 


'f  /  ■[ 


.IH 


Camp  A.ssinilx)inc. 


155 


fi  1  i 


evil  spirits  in  the  infernal  regions  are  represented  trans- 
formed to  trees. 

Curiously  enough,  the  trees  in  the  groves  were  more 
or  less  huddled  together,  as  though  for  mutual  protection. 
The  outlying  skirmishers  of  balsam  or  spruce  were  under- 
sized, and  often  grew  in  natural  hedges,  so  regular  that 
not  one  single  hranchlet  projected  beyond  the  smooth 
surface,  as  if  sensitive  of  the  wind  and  cold.  The  vege- 
table world  does  not  naturally  excite  our  sympathy,  but 
this  exhibition  of,  as  it  were,  a  united  resistance  against 
the  elements  was  almost  pitiable. 

Snow  banks  surrounded  our  camp  and  appeared  every- 
where in  the  valley.  The  lake  was  not  entirely  free  of  ice. 
and  large  pieces  of  snow  and  ice,  dislodged  from  the 
shores,  were  drifting  rapidly  down  the  lake,  driven  on  by 
a  strong  wind  and  large  waves.  The  whole  picture  resem- 
bled a  miniature  Arctic  sea,  where  the  curiously  formed 
pieces  of  ice,  often  T-shaped  and  arched  over  the  water, 
recalled  the  characteristic  forms  of  icebergs. 

It  was  at  first  impossible  to  explain  where  this  never- 
failing  supply  of  ice  came  from.  What  was  our  surprise, 
on  making  an  exploration  of  the  lake,  to  find  that  it  had 
no  outlet  and  was  rapidly  rising  !  The  snow  banks  and 
masses  of  ice  near  the  glacier  were  being  gradually  lifted 
up  and  broken  olT  by  the  rising  water,  and  so  floated  down 
the  lake. 

We   remained  at   Camp   Assiniboine   for  two  weeks. 
During  this  time  we  ascended   many  of  the  lesser  peaks 


i 


J.{ 


4 

i    r 

1 

1' 

i  ' 

i  ■    i 

\ll 


■Si 


t         A 


m 


'56 


The  CaiKulian  Rockies. 


in  tliL-  vicinity,  and  niacU-  excursions  into  the  neij^hbor- 
inj4  valU'Ns  on  all  sides.  The  smoke  only  lasted  one 
day  after  our  arrival,  hut.  unfortunatel)-,  the  weather 
tlurini^  the  lirst  week  was  very  uncertain  and  tlckk'.  A 
succession  of  stt)nns,  \er)'  brief  but  often  severe,  swept 
over  the  mountains  and  treated  us  to  a  _i,frand  exhibition 
of  cloud  and  storm  effects  on  Mount  Assinib(^ine.  .Some- 
times the  summit  would  be  clear,  and  sharply  outlined 
against  the  blue  sk)',  but  suddenly  a  mass  of  black  clouds 
would  ailvance  from  the  west  and  envelope  the  peak  in  a 
dark  eoverin_Lj.  l-oniL,^  streamers  of  fallinj^^  snow  or  rain 
would  then  approach,  and  in  a  few  moments  we  woukl  feel 
th(?  efTects  at  our  camp.  Durinj^"^  these  mountain  storms 
the  wind  blows  in  furious  j^aists,  the  air  is  filled  with  snow 
or  sometimes  hailstones,  while  thunder  and  lij^htnin^  con- 
tinue for  the  space  of  about  ten  minutes.  The  clouds  and 
storm  rapidly  pass  over  eastward,  and  the  wind  falls,  while 
the  sun  warms  the  air,  and  in  a  few  minutes  removes 
every  trace  of  hail  or  snow.  Thus  we  were  often  treated 
to  winter  and  summer  weather,  with  all  the  j^^radations 
between,  several  times  over  in  the  space  of  an  hour. 

It  seemed  impossible  to  ascend  Mount  Assiniboine, 
guarded  as  it  was  by  vertical  cliffs  and  hanging  glaciers. 
Only  one  route  appeared  on  this  side  of  the  mountain,  and 
this  lay  up  the  sle^p  snow-co\ered  slope  of  a  glacier, 
guarded  at  the  top  b\-  a  long  sclintnd  and  often  swept  by 
rocks  from  a  moraine  above.  It  might  be  possible,  having 
gained  the  top  of  this,  to  traverse  the  great  iicvc  surround- 


■ 


\\ 


Summit  of  Mt.  iVssiiiiboinc. 


»57 


injjf  thf  rock  peak  of  Mount  Assiniboinc.  I'Voni  the  snow 
t'u-'kls  tlu'  l)ar('  rock  cliffs  rise  al)out  _^.ooo  feci.  Vhc  an^k: 
of  slope  on  cither  side  is  a  little  more  than  fifty-one  liej^rees, 
a  slope  which  is  oftcMi  called  perpendicular,  and,  moreover, 
as  tlu;  strata  are  horizontal,  there  are  several  \t'rtical  walls 
of  rock,  which  sweep  around  the  cntip'  north  and  west 
faces,  and  apparentl)-  make  impassabU;  harrii-rs. 


•■■  f 


NORTH   LAKE— L00KIN3  NORTHWEST. 


i 


M.     \ 


CHAPTER    X. 


Evidence  of  Game — Discovery  of  a  Mountain  Goat — A  Lons;  Hunt — 
A  Critical  Moment — A  Terrible  Fall — An  Unpleasant  Experience — 
Habitat  of  the  Mountain  Goat — A  Change  of  Weather — A  Magnificent 
Panorama — Set  out  to  Explore  the  Mountain — Intense  Heat  of  a  Forest 
Fire — Struf^f^liu}^  with  Burnt  Timber — A  Mountain  Bivouac — Ho/'e  and 
Despair  — Success  at  Last — Short  Rations —  Topography  of  Mount  Assini- 
boine — The  Vermilion  River — A  Wonderful  Canyon — Fording  the  Bow 
River. 


DURINCi  our  excursions  we  met  with  but  little 
j^ame,  thou<(h  it  was  very  evidently  a  retjjion 
where  wild  animals  were  abundant.  Th*^  ground 
in  many  places  was  torn  up  by  bears,  where  they  had  dug 
out  the  gophers  and  marmots.  Large  pieces  of  turf,  often 
a  foot  or  eighteen  inches  square,  together  with  great 
stones  piled  up  and  thrown  about  in  confusion  around 
these  excavations,  gave  evidence  of  the  strength  of  these 
powerful  beasts. 

Higher  up  on  the  mountains  we  sa'.v  numerous  tracks 
of  the  mountain  goat,  and  lufts  of  wool  caught  among  the 
bushes  as  they  had  brushet!  by  them. 

I  was  strolling  through  the  upper  part  of  the  valley 
late  one  afternoon,  when  my  eye  fell  suddenly  on  a  moun- 
tain goat  walking  along  the  cliffs  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile 

i$8 


A  Goat  Hunt. 


159 


distant.     I  had  no   rifle  at   the  time  and  so  returned  to 
canijD  for  one,  meanwhile  keepint^  well  covered  by  trees 
and  rocks.     In  a  quarter  of  an  hour  I  was  back  a^'-ain  and 
saw  the  goat  disappear  behind  a  ledge  of  rock  about  a 
half  mile  distant.     The  mountain  goat  always  runs  up  in 
case  of  danger,  so  that  it  is  essential  to  get  above  them  in 
order  to  hunt  successfully.      I   started  forthwith  to  climb 
to   a   ledge  about    200    feet    above    the   one   on    which 
the  goat   appeared.       This   involved  an  ascent   of  some 
600   feet,    as    the  strata   had    a    gentle    dip    southward 
toward  Mount  Assiniboine,   so  that  it  was  necessary  to 
take  the  ledge  at  a  higher  point  and  follow  the  downward 
slope.     I  was  well  covered   by  intervening  cliffs,  and   the 
wind  was  favorable.     It  seemed  almost  a  certainty  that  I 
should  get  a  shot  by  following  this  ledge  for  about  a  mile. 
Accordingly  I  moved  rapidly  at  first,  and  afterwards  more 
cautiously,  expecting  to  see  the  goat  at  any  moment.     At 
length  I  came  to  a  narrow  gorge,  partially  filled  with  snow, 
where  there  were  fresh  tracks  leading  both  up  and  down. 
On  a  further  study  of  the  problem,  I    saw   fresh  tracks  in 
the  snow  of  the  valley  bottom,  and  knowing  that  it  would 
be  nearly  useless  to  go  up  for  the  goat,  I  took  the  alterna- 
tive chance  of  finding  the  animal  below.     After  a  hunt  of 
two  hours  I  returned  to  camp  completely  baffled.     Arrived 
there.  I  caught  sight  of  the  goat  standing  unconcernedly 
on  a  still  higher  ledge. 

It  was  now  hte  in  the  day,  but  after  a  good  camp 
dinner  I  set  off  again,  determined  to  have  that  goat 
if  it  was  necessary  to  stalk  him  all  night.     The  animal 


*  w 


Pll' 


« I 


1 60 


The  Canadian  Rockies. 


was  resting  on  a  ledge  near  the  top  of  a  precipice  fully 
250  feet  in  height.  I  studied  his  position  for  at  least 
a  quarter  of  an  hour,  carefully  noting  the  snow  patches 
on  the  ledge  above,  so  that  it  would  be  easy  to  recog- 
nize them  on  arriving  there.  Having  made  sure  that 
I  could  recognize  the  exact  spot  below  which  the  goat 
\."as  located,  I  started  to  climb,  and  by  a  rough  esti- 
mate calculated  that  I  should  have  to  ascend  at  least 
1000  feet.  After  a  few  hundred  yards,  I  was  com- 
{ letely  hidden  from  the  goat  in  a  shallow  gully.  Urged 
on  by  the  excitement  of  the  hunt,  I  reached  the  ledge  in 
twenty  minutes  and  turned  southward.  I  now  hatl  ""o 
scramble  over  and  among  some  enormous  blocks  of  stor: 
which  had  fallen  from  the  mountain  side  and  wr.e  strewn 
about  in  wild  disorder.  Some  were  twenty  feet  high,  and 
between  them  were  patches  of  snow  which  often  gave  way 
very  suddenly  and  plunged  me  into  deep  holes  formed  by 
the  snow  melting  back  from  the  rock  surfaces.  Very  soon 
I  came  to  a  small  pool  of  water  and  a  trickling  stream, 
already  freezing  in  the  chill  night  air. 

It  was  after  nine  o'clock,  though  there  was  still  a  bright 
twilight  in  the  northwest,  somewhat  shaded,  however,  by 
the  dark  cliffs  above.  I  proceeded  very  slowly,  so  as  to 
cool  down  somewhat  and  become  a  little  steadier  after  the 
rapid  ascent.  In  about  ten  minutes  I  recognized  the  patoh 
of  snow  under  which  the  goat  was  located,  about  one  hun- 
dred yards  ahead.  I  went  to  the  edge  of  the  precipice 
cautiously,  with  rifle  ready,  and  examined  the  ledges 
below.     The  up-draught,  caused  by  the  sun  during  the  day- 


'■; :  f 


A  Critical  Moment. 


i6i 


time,  just  now  chang^ed  to  the  downward  flow  of  the  night 
air,   chilled   by  radiation  on  the  mountain  side.     This  I 
thought  would  arouse  the  goat,  but  just  at  that  moment 
my  foot  slipped  and   I   dislodged  a  few  pieces  of  loose 
shingle,    which    went    rattling   down    the    cliffs.      These 
stones    made    the   goat   apprehensive   of  danger,    in    all 
probability,   for  I   had  no  sooner  recovered   my  balance 
than   I   caught  sight  of  the  white  head  and  shoulders  of 
the  animal  about  twenty-five  yards  below.     The  animal 
stood  motionless  and  stared  at  me  in  a  surprised  but  im- 
pudent manner.     I  took  aim,  but  could  not  keep  the  sight 
on  him  long  enough  to  make  sure  of  a  shot,  as  my  rapid 
climb  had  made  my  nerves  a  trifle  unsteady.     Fortunatelv, 
the  goat  showed  not  the  slightest  disposition  to  move  and 
in  a  few  seconds  I  got  a  good  aim  and  fired.     As  soon 
as   the    smoke   cleared,   I    saw   a   dash    of    white   disap- 
pearing,    and    then    heard   a   dull    thud    far   below.      A 
few  seconds  later  I  saw  the  animal  rolling  over  and  over 
down  the  mountain  side,  where  it  finally  stopped  on  n  ihde 
of  loose  stones.     I  had  to  make  a  long  detour  in  order  to 
get  down  to  the  animal,  where   I   arrived  in   about  half 
an    hour,    and,    remarkably    enough,    both    horns    were 
uninjured,     though     the     goat     had      fallen     125      feet 
before     striking.      This     good    luck     resulted     hnn     a 
small  snow  patch  at  the  base  of  the  cliff,  which  had  broken 
the  force  of  the  fall,  and  here  there  was  a  perfect  impres- 
sion   of  the  animal's  body,  eif];nteen    inches  deep,  in  the 
hard  snow,  while  the  next  n'ace  where  he  had  struck  was 
about  fifteen  feet  below. 


i 


:i  f 


tl: 


IH 


11 


f , ' 


i 

i 

162 


The  Canadian  Rockies. 


It  was  about  10:30  o'clock  when  I  started  for  camp, 
and  so  dark,  at  this  late  hour,  that  it  was  just  possible 
to  distincruish  the  obscure  forms  of  rocks  and  trees  on 
the  mountain  side.  There  was  still  another  ledge  to  be 
passed  i)efore  I  could  get  ilown  to  the  valley,  where 
the  only  recognizable  landmarks  were  occasional  snow 
patches,  and  a  single  bright  gleam  in  the  darkness — our 
camp  fire.  I  traversed  northwards  in  descending,  so 
as  to  pass  beyond  the  vertical  ledge,  and  at  length, 
thinl- ■  '>.'  that  I  had  gone  far  enough,  tried  to  descend. 
The  p{.  as  steep,  but  as  there  were  a  feu  bushes  and 

trees  a  sai^  descent  seemed  practicable.  So  I  unslung 
my  rifle,  ami,  after  resting  it  securely  in  a  depression,  I 
lowered  myself  till  my  feet  rested  on  a  projection  of  rock 
below.  At  the  next  move  there  was  great  difficulty  in 
finding  a  rest  for  the  ritle.  At  length  I  found  a  fair  place, 
and  lowered  myself  again.  One  more  step  and  I  should 
reach  the  bottom.  Fortunately  there  was  a  stout  balsam 
tree  at  the  top  of  the  ledge,  with  great  twisted  roots  above 
the  rocks,  which  woukl  afford  excellent  hand-holds. 
Grasping  them,  after  placing  the  rifle  in  the  lowest  place, 
I  lowered  myself  again,  but  to  my  surprise  I  could  not 
touch  the  bottom,  and.  looking  down,  found  that  I  was 
hanging  over  a  ledge  twenty  feet  high  with  rough  stones 
below.  Just  then  the  rifle  began  to  slip  down,  as  in  my 
movements  I  had  disturbed  some  bushes  supporting  it. 
With  one  hand  firmly  grasping  a  stout  root,  and  the  toe 
of  my  boot  resting  against  the  cliff,  1  took  the  rifle  in  my 
other  hand,  and  after  a  most  tiresome  struggle,  succeeded 


A  Difficult  Descent. 


163 


at  lenorth  in   placino;  it   secure  for  the  moment.     It   was 
now  a  hand-over-hand  contest  to  oet  up.      In  goino-  down 
everythino;  liad  seemed  most  firm  and  secure,  but  now  it 
was  impossible  to  rel\-  on  anythinir,  as  the  bushes  broke 
away  in  my  hand  or  were  pulled  out  by  the  roots,  and  the 
rocks  all  appeared  loose  or  too  smooth  to  grasp.     Neces- 
sit>-.  however,  knows  no  law,  and  after  a  most  desperate 
effort  I   regained  the  top  of  the  cliff.      Not  relishing  any 
more  experiences  o*"  this  nature,  I  groped  m\-  way  along 
for  some  distance  and  finally  found  an  easy  descent.      On 
reaching   the    valley,  the    snow  patches    here   and   there 
afforded    safe    routes,   illumined,    as    they   were,   by    the 
starlight.     I  rea.    ed  camp  after  eleven  o'clock  tired   but 
successful. 

My  men  started  at  five  o'clock  in  the  morning  with  ropes 
and  a  pole  to  bring  down  the  game.  It  was  a  fine  young 
male,  and  we  found  the  meat  a  most  pleasing  addition  to 
our  ordinary  fare.  Goat  meat  has  always  had  a  bad  repu- 
tation among  campers  and  explorers,  by  reason  of  its  rank 
flavor.  This,  however,  probably  depends  on  the  age  and 
sex  of  the  animal,  or  the  season  of  year.  In  all  those  that 
I  have  tried  there  was  merely  a  faintly  sweet  flavor,  which, 
however,  is  not  at  al!  apparent  if  the  meat  is  broiled  or 
roasted,  and  it  is  .hen  equal  to  very  fair  beef  or  mutton. 

The  mountain  goat  inhabits  the  cliffs  and  snowy  peaks 
of  the  Rockies,  from  Alaska  to  Montana  and  Idaho,  and 
thence  southward  in  certain  isolated  localities.  Both  sexes 
are  rirnished  with  sharp  black  horns  curving  gracefully 
backwards.     The  muzzle  and  hoofs  are  jet  black,  but  the 


i 


1 1' 


^^m 


f-  : 


I  I 


U 


164 


The  Canadian  Rockies. 


wool  is  snow-white,  lon^,  and  soft,  makiny^  a  beautiful  rucf 
if  the  animal  is  killed  in  winter.  Then  the  hair  becomes 
very  lon_ij,  and  the  soft  thick  wool  underneath  is  so  dense 
as  to  prevent  the  fingers  passing  through. 

Though  these  strange  animals  resemble  true  goats  to 
a  remarkable  degree,  and  the  old  males  sometimes  have 
beards  in  winter,  they  are  really  a  species  of  antelope, 
closely  related  to  the  chamois  of  Switzerland.  They  do 
not  resemble  those  animals  in  wariness  and  intelligence, 
but  are  rather  stupid  and  slow  in  getting  out  of  danger. 
They  are,  however,  pugnacious,  and,  when  brought  to  bay. 
will  often  charge  on  the  hunter  and  work  fearful  damage 
with  their  sharp  horns.  The  legs  are  exceedingly  stout 
and  so  thickly  covered  with  long  hair  as  to  give  the 
animal  a  clumsy  appearance.  Their  trails  are  almost 
always  to  be  found  traversing  the  mountain  sides,  far 
above  the  tree  line,  at  the  bases  of  cliffs,  and  often  passing 
over  the  lowest  depression  into  the  next  valley.  These 
goat  tracks  are  so  well  marked  that  they  often  help  the 
mountaineer,  and  sometimes  lead  him  over  jjlaces  where 
without  their  guidance  it  would  b*^  impossible  to  go.  The 
gait  of  the  animal  when  running  is  a  sort  of  gallop,  which 
appears  rather  slow,  but  when  one  considers  the  nature  of 
the  ground  they  traverse,  it  is  very  rapid.  The  most  in- 
accessible cliffs,  frozen  snow  fields,  or  crevass(!d  glaciers 
offer  no  barriers  to  these  surefooted  animals.  I  have 
seen  a  herd  of  several  goats  bounding  along  on  the  face 
of  the  cliffs,  where  it  did  not  appear  from  below  that  there 
could  be  any  possible  foothc^ld. 

When  a  herd  of  goats  come  to  a  gorge  or  passage  of 


^■p 


4^ 


Head  of  Rocky  Moinitain  Goat. 

Shot  July  iSt/i,  iS<pj. 


■'i 


^1 

I- 


T 


1 

I 


1 

'■ 

1 

• 

W^ 

I  f 


w 


Haunt  of  the  Mountain  (loat. 


1(35 


any  kind  wiicrr  Ioosl-  stones 
arc  liaMc  U)  \)v  ilisl(Kl<.fccl  on 
those  hc'low,  these  skilful 
mountaineers  adopt  tiie 
same  plan  of  progress  prac- 
tised hy  human  climbers. 
While  the  herd  rtin.iins  he- 
low,  untler  the  protection  of 
the  cliffs,  one  .s^oat  climbs 
the  ijiilly,  ami  upon  arrivinj,^ 
at  the  top  another  follows, 
•  and  thus,  one  b\'  one,  all 
escape  clanjj^er. 

The    mountain    <^oat   is 
difficult  to  hunt  b)-  reason  of 
the     amount     of     climbin_i,f 
,    necessary  to  get  near  them, 
or  above  them.     They  are 
far    less    wary    than    the 
chamois    of    .Switzer- 
land,  or  the    Rock\- 
Mountain         sheep. 
Neverthek;ss,     they 
seem    to     be       en- 
dowed     with     a 
wonderful     \ital- 
it)-,  antl  iivv,  \ery 
hard  to  kill.      A 
goat    not   fatally 
wound(;d     will 


i 


'  HAUNT  OF  THE  MOUNTAIN  GOAT.' 


I  I 


'' 


hi 


i 


III! 


1 66 


The  Canadian  Rockies. 


oft(.'n  juini)  from  a  cliff  on  which  he  is  stiuulin^,  and  survive 
a  considcrabk:  fall.  A  friend  of  mine  shot  a  ^^oat  near 
L.ikf  Louise,  which,  after  the  first  Inillct,  rolled  down  a 
cliff  more  than  thirty  feet  hij^h  and  landed  on  its  feet  at  the 
bottom,  where  it  proceeded  to  walk  off  as  though  nothing 
unusual  had  happened.  The  animal  I  shot  near  Mount 
Assiniboint!  fell  125  feet,  and  then  rolled  200  feet  fart'^er, 
and  was  still  alive  wlu-n  I  reached  him  half  an  hour  later. 

These  animals  are  by  far  the  most  numerous  of  the  big 
game  in  the  Canadian  Rockies,  and  are  said  to  be  increas- 
ing in  numbers.  Their  habits  of  frecjuenting  high  alti- 
tudes and  inaccessible  parts  of  mountains  will  tend  to 
preserve  them  for  many  yt^ars  from  the  ndentless  hunter. 

After  a  week  of  fickle  weather  with  five  inches  of  new 
snow   on  July   15th,  there   was  a  ilecided   change  *^or  the 


better,  and  the  warm,  bright  davs  following  om 


ither 


more  regularly  gave  us  the  first  taste  of  real  suniincr  that 
we  had.  Fhe  massed  drifts  of  snow  diminished  from  clay 
to  day  and  the  ice  disappeared  from  the  lakes.  Nature, 
however,  tempered  her  delights  by  ushering  in  vast  num- 
bers of  inoscjuitoes  and  bull-dog  flies  to  plague  us.  I  was 
engaged  at  this  time  in  some  surveying  work,  in  order  to 
determine  the  height  of  Mount  Assiniboine,  and  had  to 
exercise  the  utmost  patience  in  sighting  the  instruments, 
surrounded  by  hundreds  of  voracious  foes,  and  often  had 
to  allow  my  face  and  hands  to  remain  exposed  to  their 
stings  for  several  minutes. 

We  obtained  the  most  imposing  view  of  Mount  Assin- 
iboine from  the  summit  of  a  mountain  about  five  miles 


w 


Another  View  of  Mount  Assiniboiiic. 


167 


cast  of  our  cain|).  SlaiuliiiL;  at  an  altitude  ol  SSoo  feet, 
then;  wfjre  eiirlueen  hikes,  hirij^e  and  small,  to  he  s(!en  in 
the  various  valleys,  which,  toj^ethcr  with  the  tumultuous 
ranges  of  the  Rocky  Mountains  on  every  side,  some  of 
them  fifty  or  sixty  miles  distant,  formed  a  magnificent 
J)  a  n  o  rama. 
I'rom  this 
point,  which 
was  nearly 
due  north  of 
Mount  Assin- 
iboine,  the 
m  o  u  n  t  a  i  n 
shows  an  out- 
line altojjfethcr 
different  from 
that  seen  at 
our      camp. 

Here  it  forms  a  magnificent  termination  of  a  stupendous 
wall  or  ridge  of  rock,  about  i  1,000  fe(;t  high,  which  runs 
eastward  for  several  miles,  anil  th(;n  curving  around  to 
the  north,  rises  into  another  lofty  peak  nearly  rivalling 
Mount  Assiniboine  in  height.  A  very  large  glacier  sweeps 
down  from  the  ncvc  on  the;  north  side  of  this  lesser  peak, 
and  descends  in  a  crevassed  slope  to  the  valley  bottom. 

The  valle)'  just  east  of  us  was  quite  filled  by  three 
lakes,  the  uppermost  deep  blue,  the  next  greenish,  and  a 
smaller  one,  farther  north,  of  a  Aellowish  color. 

Our  last  exploit  at   Mount  Assiniboine  was   to  walk 


MOUNT  ASSINIBOINE   FROM  NORTHWEST. 


( 


.',   -, 


li 


I 


I: 


1 68 


The  Canadian  Rockies. 


completely  around  the  mountain.  We  had  long  desired 
to  learn  somethinj^  of  the  east  and  south  sides  of  this 
interesting  peak,  and  to  effect  this  Mr.  B.,  Peyto,  and  1 
started  on  July  26tli,  determined  to  see  as  much  as  pos- 
sible in  a  three  days'  trip.  Our  provisions  consisted  of 
bacon,  hard  tack,  tea,  su.;ar.  and  raisins.  Besides  this  we 
carried  one  blanket  apiece,  a  small  hand  axe,  and  a  camera. 
As  our  success  would  depend  in  great  measure  on  the 
rapidity  of  our  movements,  we  did  not  burden  ourselves 
with  ice-axes  or  firearms  except  a  six-shooter.  After  bid- 
ding farewell  to  Mr.  P.  and  the  other  men  in  camp,  and 
telling  them  to  expect  us  back  in  three  days,  we  left  our 
camp  at  eight  o'clock  in  the  morning.  We  walked  for 
three  miles  through  the  open  valleys  to  the  north  ar  '. 
east,  and  in  about  two  hours  stood  at  the  top  of  the  pass, 
some  8000  feet  above  sea-level.  From  here  we  made  a 
rapid  descent  for  about  2000  feet,  lo  the  largest  lake  of 
this  unexplored  valley,  which  probably  supplies  one  of  the 
tributaries  to  the  Spray  River.  The  change  in  the  char- 
acter of  the  vegetation  was  remarkable.  The  trees  grew 
to  an  immense  size  and  reminded  me  strongly  of  a  Sel  k 
forest.  We  had  a  most  difficult  scramble  here  in  tiii, 
pathless  forest  and  up  the  opposite  side  of  the  ■s'  lley. 
The  heat  wps  oppressive,  and  wt;  were  glad  to  gain  the 
level  of  another  more  elevated  valle)'  where  a  cooler 
atmosphere  greeted  us.  We  held  our  way  eastward  for 
sevcal  miles  through  a  tine  'ipl.ind  meadow,  where  the 
walkiu''  was  ei  >y  and  tlie  surroundini/s  delightful.  Wv 
noon  we  reached  a  small,  shallow  lake  near  the  highest 


\   • 


I 


■■■Mi 


Intense  Heat  of  a  Forest  Fire. 


169 


part  of  the  divide,  considerably  below  tree  line.  Here 
we  decided  to  rest  and  have  lunch.  Mr.  B.  hail  explored 
this  region  with  one  of  his  men  a  few  days  previously, 
and  from  him  we  learned  that  we  should  have  to  struggle 
with  burnt  timber  in  a  few  moments.  The  onward  rush 
of  the  devastating  fire  had  been  stopped  near  the  |)ass, 
where  the  trees  were  small  and  scattered.  After  a  short 
descent  we  entered  the  burnt  timber.  I  have  never  before 
seen  a  region  so  absolutely  devastated  by  fire  as  this. 
The  fire  must  have  burnt  with  an  unusually  fierce  heat, 
for  it  had  consumed  the  smaller  trees  entirely,  or  warped 
them  over  till  they  had  formed  half  circles,  with  their  tops 
touching  the  ground.  The  outcrops  of  sandstone  and 
quartz  rocks  had  been  splintered  into  sharp-edged,  gritty 
stones,  covering  the  ground  everywhere  like  so  many 
knives.  The  course  of  the  valley  now  turned  rapidly  to 
the  south,  so  that  we  rounded  a  corner  of  the  great  mass 
of  mountains  culminating  in  Mount  Assiniboine.  The 
mountain  itself  had  been  for  a  long  time  shut  out  from 
view  by  an  intervening  lofty  ridge  of  glacier-clad  peaks, 
which  were,  in  reality,  merely  outlying  spurs. 

The  valley  in  which  we  were  now  walking  had  an  un- 
usual formation,  for  after  a  short  tlistance  we  approached 
a  great  step,  or  drop,  whereby  the  valley  l)ottom  made  a 
descent  of  400  or  5  jo  feet  at  an  exceedingly  steep  pitch. 
Here  it  was  difficult  to  d  scend  even  in  the  easiest 
places.  Arrived  at  the  bottom  of  the  descent  it  was  not 
very  long  before  another  appeared,  far  deeptM"  than  the 
first.     The   mountains  on  either  side,  especially  a  most 


^ 


?                f:. 

■    ,i 

:  I        . 

i       I 


J 


i! 


170 


The  Canadian  Rockies. 


striking  and  prominent  peak  on  the  east  side  of  the 
valley,  which  had  hitherto  appeared  of  majestic  height, 
seemed  to  rise  to  immeasurable  altitudes  as  we  plunged 
deeper  and  deeper  in  rapid  descent. 

The  burnt  timber  continued  without  interruption. 
Our  passage  became  mere  log  walking,  as  the  extra  exer- 
tion of  jumping  over  the  trees  was  worse  than  following 
a  crooked  course  on  top  of  the  prostrate  trunks.  This 
laborious  and  exceedingly  tiresome  work  continued  for 
three  hours,  and  at  length  the  charred  trunks,  uprooted 
or  burnt  off  near  the  ground,  and  crossed  in  every  direc- 
tion, were  piled  so  high  that  we  were  often  ten  or  twelve 
feet  above  the  ground,  and  had  to  work  out  our  puzzling 
passage  with  considerable  forethought.  At  five  o'clock 
our  labors  ended.  We  made  a  camp  near  a  large  stream 
which  appeared  to  take  its  source  near  Mount  Assini- 
boine.  The  only  good  thing  about  this  camp  was  the 
abundance  of  firewood,  which  was  well  seasoned,  required 
but  little  chopping,  and  was  already  half  converted  into 
charcoal.  Under  the  shelter  of  an  overhanging  limestone 
ledge  we  made  three  lean-tos  by  supporting  our  blankets 
on  upright  stakes.  Black  as  coal-heavers  from  our  long 
walk  in  the  burnt  timber,  seeking  a  refuge  in  the  rocky 
ledges  of  the  mountains,  and  clad  in  uncouth  garments 
torn  and  discolored,  we  must  have  resembled  the  aborigi- 
nal savages  of  this  wild  region.  Some  thick  masses  of 
sphagnum  moss,  long  since  dried  up,  gave  us  a  soft  cover- 
ing, to  place  on  the  rough,  rocky  ground.  Our  supper 
consisted  of  bacon,  hard  tack,  and  tea.      Large  llat  stones 


A  Mountain  Bivouac. 


171 


laid  on  a  gentle  charcoal  fire  served  to  broil  our  bacon 
most  excellently,  though  the  heat  soon  cracked  the  stones 
in  pieces. 

At  eight  o'clock  we  retired  to  the  protection  of  our 
shelter.  Overhead  the  starless  sky  was  cloudy  and  threat- 
ened rain.  The  aneroid,  which  was  fallintv,  indicated  that 
our  altitude  was  only  4,700  feet  above  the  sea.  VVe 
arose  early  in  the  morning  ;  our  breakfast  was  over  and 
everybody  ready  to  proceed  at  seven  o'clock.  We  were 
now  on  the  Pacific  slope,  and,  according  to  out  calcula- 
tions, on  one  of  the  tributaries  to  the  north  fork  of  the 
Cross  River,  which,  in  turn,  is  a  tributary  to  the  Kootanie. 

We  had  a  plan  to  explore  up  the  valley  from  which  our 
stream  issued,  but  beyond  that,  all  was  indefinite.  It  was 
possible  that  this  valley  led  around  Mount  Assiniboine  so 
that  we  could  reach  camp  in  two  days.  We  were,  how- 
ever, certain  of  nothing  as  to  the  geography  of  the  region 
which  we  were  now  entering. 

The  clouds  covered  the  entin;  sky  and  obscured  the 
highest  mountain  peaks  Worse  still,  they  steadily  de- 
scended lower  and  lower,  ^11  of  bad  weather.  We  had, 
however,  but  this  day  in  whicli  to  ee  the  south  sitl  •  of 
Mount  Assiniboine,  and  consequeiili\  nerc  resob cd  to  do 
our  best,  though  the  chances  were  much  against  us.  For 
three  hours  we  followed  the  stream  through  the  burnt  lim- 
ber, then  the  country  became  more  open  and  -lur  progress, 
accordingly,  more  rapid.  A  little  after  ten  o'clock  we  sat 
down  by  the  bank  of  the  stream  to  rest  for  a  few  m  inents, 
and  eat  a  lunch  of  hard  tack  and  cold  bacon.        uch  fare 


i 


'3 
1 


172 


The  Canadian  Rockies. 


m 


I!i 


may  seem  far  from  appetiziiii^  to  those  of  sedentary  habits, 
hut  our  tramp  of  three  hours  over  the  fallen  trees  was 
equivalent  to  fully  five  or  six  hours  walking  on  a  good 
country  road,  and  what  with  the  fresh  mountain  air  and  a 
light  breakfast  early  in  the  morning,  our  simple  lunch  was 
most  acceptable. 

A  most  pleasing  and  encouraging  change  of  weather 
now  took  place.  A  sudden  gleam  of  sunlight,  partially 
paled  by  a  thin  cloud,  called  our  attention  upward,  when 
to  our  great  relief  several  areas  of  blue  sky  appeared,  the 
clouds  were  rising  and  breaking  up,  and  there  was  every 
prospect  of  a  change  for  the  better. 

Once  more  assuming  our  various  packs,  we  pushed  on 
with  renewed  energy.  On  the  left  or  south  was  a  long 
lofty  ridge  of  nearly  uniform  height.  On  the  right  was  a 
stupendous  mountain  wall  of  great  height,  the  top  of  which 
was  concealed  by  the  clouds.  This  impassable  barrier 
seemed  to  curve  around  at  the  head  of  the  valley,  and,  turn- 
ing to  the  south,  join  the  ridge  on  the  opposite  side. 
This  then  was  a  "blind"  valley  without  an  outlet.  There 
were  two  courses  open  to  us.  The  first  was  to  wait  a  few 
hours,  hoping  to  see  Mount  Assiniboine  and  return  to 
camp  the  way  we  came.  The  second  was  to  force  a  passage, 
if  possible,  over  the  mountain  ridge  to  the  south  and  so 
descend  into  the  N(^rth  b'ork  valhn',  which  we  were  certain 
hi)'  on  the  otiier  side.  The  latter  plan  was  much  preferable, 
as  we  would  have  a  better  chance  to  see  Mount  Assiniboine, 
anil  the  possibility  of  returning  to  camp  by  a  new  route. 

After  a  short  discussion,  we  sclectctl  a  favorabU;  slope 


li  m 


I 


It;  fn. 


Hope  and  Despair. 


^72, 


and  began  to  ascend  the  mountain  ridge.  A  vast  assem- 
blage of  obstacles  behind  us  in  the  shape  of  two  high 
passes,  dense  forests,  and  a  horrid  infinity  of  fallen  trees, 
crossed  bewilderingly,  made  a  picture  in  our  minds,  con- 
stant and  vivid  as  it  was,  that  urged  us  forward.  In  strik- 
ing contrast  to  this  picture,  hope  had  built  a  pleasing  air 
castle  before  us.  We  were  now  climbing  to  its  outworks, 
and  should  we  succeed  in  capturing  the  place,  a  new  and 
pleasant  route  would  lead  us  back  to  camp  and  place  us 
there— so  bold  is  hope— perhaps  by  nightfall. 

Thus  with  a  repelling  force  pushing  from  behind  and 
an  attractive  force  drawing  us  forward,  we  were  resolved 
to  overcome  all  but  the  insuperable. 

There  was  much  of  interest  on  the  mountain  slope, 
which  was  gentle,  and  allowed  us  to  pay  some  attention  to 
our  surroundings.  On  this  slope  the  scattered  pine  trees 
had  escaped  the  fire  and  offered  a  pleasant  contrast  to 
the  burnt  timber.  We  passed  several  red-colored  ledges 
containing  rich  deposits  of  iron  ore.  while  crystals  of 
calcite  and  siderite  were  strewed  everywhere,  and  often 
formed  a  brilliant  surface  of  sparkling,  sharp-edged  rhombs 
over  the  dull  gray  limestone.  Among  the  limestones  and 
shales  we  found  fossil  shells  and  several  species  of  trilo- 
bites. 

In  an  hour  we  had  come  apparently  to  the  top  of  our 
ridge,  though  of  course  we  hardly  dared  hope  It  was  the 
true  summit.  As,  one  by  one,  we  reached  a  commanding 
spot,  a  blank,  silent  gaze  stole  over  the  face  of  each.  To 
our  dismay,  a  vertical  wall  of  rock,  without  any  opening 


1 


i|i| 


174 


The  Canadian  Rockies. 


whatever,  stood  before  us  and  rose  a  half  thousand  feet 
higher.  Thus  were  all  our  hopes  dashed  to  the  ground 
suddenly,  and  we  turned  perforce,  in  imagination,  to  our 
weary  return  over  the  many  miles  of  dead  and  prostrate 
tree  trunks  that  intervened  between  us  and  our  camp. 

The  main  object  of  our  long  journey  was,  however, 
at  this  time  attained,  for  the  clouds  lifted  and  revealed  the 
south  side  of  Mount  Assiniboine,  a  sight  that  probably  no 
other  white  men  have  ever  seen.  I  took  my  camera  and 
descended  on  a  rocky  ridge  for  some  distance  in  order  to 
get  a  photograph.  Returning  to  where  my  friends  were 
resting,  I  felt  the  first  sensation  of  dizziness  and  weakness, 
resulting  from  unusual  physical  exertion  and  a  meagre 
diet.  I  joined  the  others  in  another  repast  of  raisins  and 
hard  tack,  taken  from  our  rapidly  diminishing  store  of 
provisions. 

Some  more  propitious  divinity  must  have  been  guiding 
our  affairs  at  this  time,  for  while  we  were  despondent  at 
our  defeat,  and  engaged  in  discussing  the  most  extrava- 
gant routes  up  an  inaccessible  cliff,  our  eyes  fell  on  a  well 
defined  goat  trail  leading  along  the  mountain  side  on  our 
left.  It  offered  a  chance  and  we  accepted  it.  Peyto  set 
off  ahead  of  us  while  we  were  packing  up  our  burdens, 
and  soon  appeared  like  a  small  black  spot  on  the  steep 
mountain  side.  Havingalready  passed  several  places  that 
appeared  very  dangerous,  what  was  our  surprise  to  see  him 
now  begin  to  move  slowly  up  a  slope  of  snow  that  ap- 
peared nearly  vertical.  We  stood  still  from  amazement, 
and  argued  that  if  he  could  go  up  such  a  place  as  that, 
he  could  go  anywhere,  and  that  where  he  went  we  could 


'i-l 


Success  at  Last. 


'75 


follow.  We  rushed  after  him,  and  found  the  goat  trail 
nearly  a  foot  wide,  and  the  danjj^erous  places  not  so  had 
as  they  seemed.  The  snow  ascent  was  remarkably  steep, 
but  safe  enough,  and,  after  reaching  the  top,  the  goat  trail 
led  us  on,  like  a  faithful  guide  pointing  out  a  safe  route. 
We  could  only  see  a  short  distance  ahead  by  reason  of 
the  great  ridges  and  gullies  that  we  crossed.  Below  us 
was  a  steep  slope,  rough  with  projecting  crags,  while,  as  we 
passed  along,  showers  of  loose  stones  rolled  down  the  moun- 
tain side  and  made  an  infernal  clatter,  ever  reminding  us 
not  to  slip.  At  one  o'clock  we  stood  on  the  top  of  the 
ridg(?  9000  feet  above  sea-level,  having  ascended  4300  feet 
from  our  last  camp. 

The  valley  of  the  north  fork  of  the  Cross  River  lay 
far  below,  with  green  timber  once  more  in  sight,  inviting 
us  to  descend.  After  five  minutes  delay,  for  another 
photograph,  we  started  our  descent,  verj-  rapidly,  at  first, 
in  order  to  get  warm.  We  descended  a  steep  slope  of 
loose  debris,  then  through  a  long  gully,  rather  rough,  and 
rendered  dangerous  by  loose  stones,  till  at  length  we 
reached  the  grassy  slopes,  then  bushes,  finally  trees  and 
forests,  with  a  warm  summery  atmosphere.  Here, 
beautiful  asters  and  castilleias,  and  beds  of  the  fragrant 
Linneas,  delicate,  low  herbs  with  pale,  twin  flowers,  each 
pair  pendent  on  a  single  stem,  gave  a  new  appearance  to 
the  vegetation.  In  still  greater  contrast  to  the  dark  con- 
ilcrous  forests  of  the  mountain,  there  were  many  white 
birch  trees,  and  a  few  small  maples,  the  first  I  have  ever 
seen  in  the  Rockies.  In  a  meadow  by  the  river  we  feasted 
on  wild  strawberries,  which  were  now  in  their  prime. 


i 


f ,  /■■  r 


i! 


■li 


176 


The  Canadian  Rockies. 


Near  the  river  we  discovered  a  trail,  the  first  we  had 
seen  so  far  on  our  journey  around  Assiniboine.  After  an 
hour  of  walkinjj^  we  came  to  a  number  of  horses,  and  soon 
saw  on  the  other  side  of  the  river  a  camp  of  another  party 
of  i^entlemen,  who  were  exploring  this  region,  and  had 
been  out  from  Banff  twenty-four  days.  We  forded  the 
river,  and  found  it  a  little  over  our  knees,  but  very  swift. 

A  very  pleasant  half  hour  was  spent  at  this  place,  en- 
joying their  hospitality,  and  then  we  pushed  on.  We 
were  now  going  westward  up  the  valley,  which  held  a 
straight  course  of  about  six  miles,  and  then  turned 
around  to  the  north.  The  trail  being  good,  we 
walked  very  rapidly  till  nightfall  in  a  supreme 
effort  to  reach  our  camp  that  night.  Having  now 
been  on  our  feet  almost  continuously  for  the  past 
fifteen  hours,  we  had  become  so  fatigued  that  a  very 
slight  obstruction  was  sufificient  to  cause  a  fall,  and  every 
few  minutes  some  one  of  the  party  would  go  headlong 
among  the  burnt  timber.  We  had  barely  enough  pro- 
visions for  another  meal,  however,  and  so  we  desired  to 
get  as  near  headquarters  as  possible.  At  length,  night- 
fall havnig  rendered  farther  progress  impossible,  we  found 
a  fairly  level  place  among  the  prostrate  trees,  and,  after  a 
meal  of  bacon  and  hard  tack,  lay  down  on  the  ground 
around  a  large  fire.  The  night  was  mild,  and  extreme  weari- 
ness gave  us  sound  sleep.  After  four  hours  of  sleep,  we  were 
aeain  on  foot  at  four  o'clock  in  the  morning.  We  marched 
into  camp  at  6:30,  where  the  cooks  were  just  building  the 
morning  fires,  and  commencing  to  prepare  breakfast. 


I: 


Topoi^raphy. 


1/7 


We  were  without  doubt  the  first  to  accompHsh  the 
circuit  of  Mount  Assiniboine.  By  pedometer,  the  dis- 
tance was  fifty-one  miles,  which  we  acconipHshed  in  forty- 
six  hours,  or  less  than  two  days. 

Mount  Assiniboine  is  the  culminating  point  of  a  nearly 
square  system  of  mountains  covering  about  thirty-five 
scpiare  miles.  According  to  my  estimates  from  angles 
taken  by  surveying  instruments  made  on  the  spot,  the 
mountain  is  11,680  feet  in  height.  Later  on.  how- 
ever, I  learned  from  Mr.  McArthur,  who  is  connected 
with  the  Topographical  Survey,  and  who  has  probably 
climbed  more  peaks  of  the  Canadian  Rockies  than  any 
other  two  men,  that,  according  to  some  angles  taken  on 
this  mountain  from  a  great  distance,  the  height  is  1 1,830 
feet. 

Three  rivers,  the  Spray,  the  Simpson,  and  the  North 
Fork  of  the  Cross,  drain  this  region,  and  as  the  two  latter 
flow  into  the  Columbia,  and  the  former  into  the  Sas- 
katchewan, this  great  mountain  is  on  the  watershed,  and 
consequently  on  the  boundary  line  between  Alberta  and 
British  Columbia.  About  two-thirds  of  the  forest  area 
round  its  base  has  been  burned  over,  and  this  renders 
the  scenery  most  unattractive.  The  north  and  northwest 
sides,  however,  are  covered  with  green  timber,  and  studded 
with  lakes,  of  which  one  is  two  miles  or  more  in  length. 
There  are  in  all  thirteen  lakes  around  the  immediate  base 
of  the  mountain,  and  some  are  exquisitely  beautiful. 

The  great  height  and  striking  appearance  of  Mount 
Assiniboine  will  undoubtedly,  in  the  future,  attract  moun- 


'i 


r  i' 


|i 


178 


The  Canadian  Rockies. 


tainecrs  to  this  rej^ion,  especially  as  a  much  shorter  route 
exists  than  the  one  \v6  followed.  If  the  trail  is  opened 
alont,r  t\\v.  S[)ray  River,  the  t^xplorer  should  be  able  to 
reach  the  mountain,  with  horses,  in  two  days  from  Banff. 
Mount:  .Assiniboine,  especially  when  seen  from  the  north, 
resembles  the  Matterhorn  in  a  striking  manner.  Its  top 
is  often  shrouded  in  clouds,  and  when  the  wind  is  westerly, 
frequently  displays  a  lonsj^  cloud  banner  trailin_s^  out  from 
its  eastern  side.  The  mountain  is  one  that  will  prove 
exceediuLjly  difficult  to  the  climber.  On  every  side  the 
slope  is  no  less  than  fifty  degrees,  and  on  the  east,  ap- 
proaches sixty-five  or  sevent) .  Moreover,  the  horizontal 
strata  have  weathered  away  in  such  a  manner  as  to  form 
vertical  ledijes,  which  completely  girdle  the  mountain,  and, 
from  below,  appear  to  offer  a  hopeless  problem.  In  every 
storm  the  mountain  is  covered  with  new  snow,  even  in 
summer,  and  this  comes  rushing  down  in  frequent  ava- 
lanches, thus  adding  a  new  source  of  danger  and  perplexity 
to  the  mountaineer. 

The  day  of  our  arrival  in  camp  was  spent  in  much- 
needed  rest.  Our  time  was  now  up,  and  it  was  necessary, 
on  the  next  day,  to  commence  our  homeward  journey, 
and,  as  our  winding  cavalcade  left  the  beautiful  site  of 
our  camp  under  the  towering  walls  of  Mount  Assiniboine, 
many  were  the  unexpressed  feelings  of  regret,  for  in  the 
two  weeks  spent  here  we  had  had  many  delightful  experi- 
ences, and  had  become  familiar  with  every  charming  view 
of  lakes  and  forests  and  mountains. 

In  two  days  we  reached  the  fork  where  the  Simpson 


)V! 


Crossini^r  the  V'cniiilioii  Rivc:r. 


'79 


and  Vermilion  rivers  unite.  It  was  our  intention  to 
follow  u[)  the  X'erniilion  River  aiui  rt;ach  the  Bow  valle)- 
by  the  V(;rniilion  Pass.  The  Ve-rmilion  River  is  at  this 
point  a  lar<;e,  deep  stream  llowin},^  swiftly  and  smoothly 
The  valley  is  very  wiile  and  densely  foresteil.  with  occa- 
sional oi)en  places  near  the  riv<r.  For  three  dajs  we 
proLjressed  up  the  rivc-r,  often  bein^  compelled  to  cross  it 
on  account  of  the  dense  timber.  At  one  place,  after 
several  of  the  horses  had  j^ained  a  bar  in  the  middle  of 
the  river,  one  of  those  followin^^  _i,fot  beyond  his  dt.-pth 
and  was  swept  rapidly  down,  and  appeared  in  great  danger 
of  being  drowned.  Fortunately,  the  animal  was  caught 
by  an  eddy  current,  and  by  desperate  swimming  at  length 
gained  the  bar.  The  poor  beast  was,  however,  so  much 
benumbed  by  the  cold  water  that  he  could  not  climb  upon 
the  bar,  but  the  men  dashed  in  bravely,  and  by  pulling  on 
head  and  packs,  and  even  his  tail,  the  animal  fnially 
struggled  into  shallow  water.  Standing  up  to  our  knees 
in  the  water,  with  a  deep  channel  on  either  side  of  us  and 
an  angry  rapid  below,  our  prospects  v/ere  far  from  en- 


m 


couragmg. 


I  mounted  old  Chiniquy  behind  Peyto  and  we  i)]ung(.'d 
in  first.  "  It  's  swim  sure  this  time,"  said  Peyto  to  me,  as 
the  water  rose  at  Oi.ce  nearly  to  the  horse's  back,  and  the 
ice-cold  water,  creeping  momentarily  higher,  gave  us  a 
most  uncomfortable  sensation.  The  current  was  so  swift 
that  the  water  was  banked  up  much  higher  on  the  up- 
stream side.  Such  crossings  are  very  exciting,  for  at  any 
moment  the  horse  may  stumble  on  the  rough  bottom  or 


i 


) 


I  So 


TIic  Canadian  Rockies. 


iflH 


phii^yc  into  a  ilccp  hole.  Cliini(iii\'  hail  a  hanl  time  of 
it  ami  groaneii  at  every  stvp.  but  ^ot  us  across  all  rij^^ht. 
The  rest  all  foUovveil,  not.  however,  ov(-'r-con(kleiU  at  our 
success,  to  judijje  by  their  anxious  looks.  All  <^ot  across 
except  one;  pack-horse,  which,  after  a  voyaj^n;  down  stream, 
we  finally  cau»,dit  and  pidled  ashore. 

Then-  was  evidence  of  much  tjame  in  this  valley,  as 
we  saw  many  tracks  of  deer,  caribou,  and  bears.  One 
day,  just  as  we  stopped  to  camp,  a  tloe  started  up  and  ran 
by  us.  W'e  camptid  on  Auj^ust  Jiul  at  a  beautiful  spot 
near  the  summit  of  tlie  V(;rmilion  I'ass.  A  lary^e  stream 
came  in  from  the  northwest,  and  we  set  out  to  explore  it 
for  a  short  distance,  as,  before  leaviny^  lianff,  we  had  heard 
of  a  remarkable  canyon  near  this  place. 

Not  more  than  an  eighth  of  a  mile  from  the  junction 
of  the  two  streams  the  canyon  commences.  At  first,  the 
stream  is  hemmed  in  by  two  rocky  walls  a  few  feet  in 
heitjht,  but  as  one  ascends,  the  walls  become  higher  aod 
hiij^her,  and  the  sound  of  the  roarinij^  stream  is  lost  in  the 
black  depth  of  a  j;doomy  chasm.  To  one  leaninj^  over  the 
edjre  of  the  beetlintj  precipice;,  this  wonderful  gorjj^e  ap- 
pears like  a  bottomless  rift  or  rent  in  the  mountain  sitie, 
and  so  deep  is  it  and  so  closely  do  the  opposite,  irrej^ular 
walls  press  one  tov/ards  another,  that  it  is  impossible  to 
see  the  waters  below  from  which  a  faint,  sullen  murmur 
comes  up. 

Most  wonderful  of  all,  the  canyon  at  length  comes  to 
a  sudden  termination,  and  here  the  whole  mighty  stream 
plunges  headlong,  as  it  were,  into  the  very  bowels  of  the 


fi: 


A  W'oiulcrful  Canyon. 


iSl 


(,'artli.  The  boilintr  stream,  turned  snow-wliite  1)\-  a  short 
preliminary  leap,  makes  a  linal  plunge  ijownwarcis  ami 
is  lost  to  sii^rht  in  a  dark  lavcrnous  hole,  |)rrhaps  300 
feet  iletrp,  whenct'  proceeds  a  most  awful  roar,  like;  that 
of  ponderous  uiachinerv  in  motion.      The  urouiid,  which 


is  here  a  s  )lid  ([uartzit*!  formation,  fairly  treml)les  at 
the  t(;rrible  concussion  and  force  of  the  f.dlin^  waters, 
while  cold,  mist-laden  airs  asc*  iid  in  whirling-  jousts  from 
th(;  awful  dc^pths.  Niai^.ira  is  majesticall)'  and  supremeK- 
j,'ranil,  hut  this  k-sser  fall,  where  tin;  water  plunj^cs  into  a 
black  bottomless  hole,  is  by  far  the  more  terrify! nj;. 

On  the  fourth  of   Aujj^ust  we   reached  the   summit   of 
the    W'rmilion    I'ass.     On  the  summit  we  passed   several 


sm 


all     lake's 


in  the  forest. 
Thi-waterwas 
of  a  most  beau- 
tiful color,  far 


more     vivid 


ih 


an 


any 


I 


have  hitherto 
seen.  In  the 
shallow  places 
where  the-  bot- 


Id  be 


lom   cou 


easi 


ly 


seen, 


LAKE   ON   VERMILION   PASS. 


the  water   as- 
sumed   a    brit,dit,   clear,   ijj^reen   color,   ani-l    in    the   deeper 
places,  according  to  the  light  and  angle  of  view,  the  color 


W 


)ii 


w 


\r 


;   n 


182 


'I'hc  Canadian  Rockies. 


varied  to  darker  luuis  of  all  possible  shades  and  tints. 
The  rich  colors  of  sky  and  water  in  the  Rocky  Mountains 
is  one  of  the  most  beautiful  features  of  the  scenery,  but 
likewise  one  that  can  only  be  appreciated  b\'  actual 
experience. 

Our  horses  were  plagued  by  s^reat  numbers  of  bull-dot,^ 
flies  as  we  ententd  the;  Bow  valle).  It  seems  as  ihouL,di 
these  insects  wf-re  more  numerous  in  the  valley  of  the 
Bow,  and  its  various  tributaries,  than  m  those  parts  of  the 
mountains  drained  by  other  ri\-ers. 

;\t  four  (j'clock  we  reached  the  Bow  River,  antl  forded 
it  when;  the  width  was  about  one  hundred  \ards,  and  the 
deptii  four  {va-\.  My  camera  and  several  plates  were 
flooded  in  this  passaj^e,  which  was,  however,  effected  in 
safety. 

.\  march  of  one  hour  more,  alon*;  the  tote-road,  brought 
us  to  the  station  of  Castle  Mountain,  once  a  thriving  vil- 
lage in  the  railr<;ad-construction  days,  but  now  presenting 
a  forlorn  and  deserted  appearance.  I'he  section  men 
flagged  the  east-bound  train  for  us,  and  we  arrived  in 
Banff  that  (.-vening,  after  having  been  in  camp  for  twenty- 
nine  days. 


m 


l  ^r 


CHAPTER  XI. 

T//f  U'aputchk  R(i}i}:;e — J/cii^/if  of  the  Moiuitains—Vdst  S/ztnc  F/rh/s 
and  Glacicn — yoiinny  up  the  Jhnv — //ewe  of  a  J'rospeetor — Causes  an  J 
J''re(/tteih-y  of  /''orest  Fires — ./  Visit  to  the  Lo-ioer  Bow  l.ahe — Afiis/.-ei^s  — 
A  Mountain  Flooded  with  lee — Deiii^htfui  Seenes  at  the  I'pper  Jloic 
Loke—Ju-auty  of  the  Shores — Lake  Trout— The  Great  Toio  Glaeier. 

THE  Summit  Ran_o;e  of  the  Rock^  Mountains  as  they 
extend  northward  from  the  deep  and  narrow 
valley  of  the  Kicking  Horse  River  has  a  special 
name — the  Waputehk  Range,— derived,  it  is  said,  from  a 
word  which  in  the  language  of  the  Stoney  Indians  means 
the  White  Goat. 

From  the  summit  of  one  of  the  peaks  in  this  range, 
the  climber  beholds  a  sea  of  mountains  running  in  long, 
nearly  parallel,  ridges,  sometimes  uniting  and  rising  to  a 
higher  altitude,  and  again  dividing,  so  as  to  form  countless 
spurs  and  a  complicated  topography.  In  this  range  each 
ridg(.'  usually  presents  a  lofty  escarpment  and  bare  pre- 
cipitous walls  of  rock  on  its  eastern  face,  while  the  oppo- 
site slope  is  more  gentle.  Here  the  Cambrian  sandstones 
and  shales  and  the  limestones  of  later  ages  may  be  seen 
in  clearly  marked  strata  tilted  up,  generally,  toward  the 
east,  though  many  of   the   mountains   reveal   contortions 

and  faults  throughout   their  structure,  which  indicate  the 

183 


,1   . 1.HP 


ii 


184 


The  Canadian  Rockies. 


wcllnigh  inconceivable  forces  that  have  here  been  at 
work. 

The  Waputehk  Mountains  have  remained  to  this  day 
but  very  httle  known,  and  ahiiost  totall)'  unexpk^red,  in 
tlieir  interior  portions.  No  ])asses  are  known  through 
tills  range  between  the  Kicking  Horse  Pass  on  the  south 
and  the  Howse  Pass  on  the  north.  Then  another  k^ng 
interval  northwards  to  the  Athabasca  Pass  is  said  by  the 
Indians  to  offer  an  impassable  barrier  to  men  and  horses. 
The  continuity  of  the  range  is  well  indicat('d  by  the  fact 
that,  for  a  distance  of  one  hundred  miles,  these  mountains 
present  only  one  pass  across  the  range  available  for  horses. 
The  several  ridges  which  form  this  range  rise  to  a 
very  uniform  altitude  of  10.000  or  1 1,000  feet.  On  Pal- 
liser's  map  of  this  region,  one  |)eak  north  of  the  Howse 
Pass,  Mount  b'orbes,  is  accredited  with  an  altitude  of 
13,400  feet,  and  the  standard  atlases  have  for  many  years 
placed  the  altitude  of  Mount  Brown  at  16,000  feet,  and 
that  of  Mount  Hooker  at  15,700  feet,  but  there  is  much 
reason  to  doubt  that  any  mountains  attain  such  heights 
in  this  part  of  the  Rocky  Mountains. 

A  heavy  snowfall,  due  to  the  precipitation  brought 
about  by  this  lofty  and  continuous  range,  as  the  westerly 
winds  ascend  and  pass  over  it,  and  the  existence  of  many 
elevatetl  plateaus,  or  large  areas  having  gentle  slopes, 
have  conspired  to  make  vast  ticvc  regions  and  boundless 
snowfields  among  these  mountains.  I'Vom  the  snowtields, 
long  tongues  of  ice  and  large  glaciers  descend  into  the 
valleys,  and  thus  drain  away  the  surplus  material  from  the 


k 


The  JVapittclik  Range. 

Looking;  across  the  range  from  near  Hcetor. 


i 

T 

( 

I' 


¥  ! 


1 

1 

ll^ 


FT  fi' 


I  ;! 


:■!         ! 


if ! 


;:.. 


« i 


!■    •■ 


I 

I! 


hf 


rt 


The  Waputchk  Range. 


185 


hijrhcr  altitud(;s.  No  other  parts  of  the  Rocky  Mountains, 
south  of  Alaska,  have  glaciers  and  snowfields  which  may 
compare  in  size  or  extent  with  those  of  the  VVaputchk 
Range. 

The  desolate  though  grand  extent  of  gray  cliffs  and 
boundless  snowfields,  extending  farther  than  the  eye  can 
reach,  when  seen  from  a  high  altitude,  gives  no  sutmestion 
of  the  delightful  valleys  below,  where  many  beautiful 
lakes  nestle  among  the  green  forests,  and  form  picturesque 
mirrors  for  the  surrounding  rugged  mountains.  On  the 
shores  of  one  of  these  mountain  lakes,  in  the  genial  warmth 
of  lower  altitudes,  where  the  water  is  hemmed  in,  and  en- 
croached upon,  by  the  trees  and  luxuriant  vegetation 
fostered  by  a  moist  climate,  the  explorer  beholds  each 
mountain  peak  as  the  central  point  of  interest  in  every 
view.  Each  cliff  or  massive  snow-covered  mountain  then 
appears  an  unscalable  height  reaching  upward  toward  the 
heavens, — a  most  inspiring  work  of  nature,  raising  the  eyes 
and  the  thoughts  above  the  common  h'.vel  of  our  earth. 
When  seen  from  high  altitudes,  a  mountain  appears  merely 
as  a  part  of  a  vast  panorama  or  a  single  element  in  a  wild, 
limitless  scene  vof  desolate  peaks,  which  raise  their  bare, 
bleak  summits  among  the  sea  of  mountains  far  up  into  the 
cold  regions  of  the  atmosphere,  where  they  become  white 
with  eternal  snow,  and  bound  by  rigid  glaciers. 

Having  become  much  interested  in  reports  of  the  vast 
dimensions  of  the  glaciers  in  the  Waputehk  Mountains, 
and  the  beauty  of  the  lakes,  especially  near  the  sources  of 
the  Bow  River  and  the  Little  Fork  of  the  Saskatchewan,  I 


f 


?m 


.:■ 


^ 


I 


E  ! 


ii': 


■  ■  1  1 

.'l   i 

1                 ; 

'.1 

i 

i 

^ 

1 

iS6 


The  Canadian  Rockies. 


started  on  August  14th,  1895,  with  the  intention  of  visiting 
those  regions  and  spending  some  time  there.     My  outfit 

consisted      of 

^Mk^'  ^^^  horses,  a 
cook,  and  a 
packer.  I  had 
engaged  Pey- 
to  for  the  lat- 
ter service,  as 
lie  had  been 
most  efficient 
'ft,  on  our  trip  to 
Mount  Assini- 
b  o  i  n  e.  W  e 
left  Laggan  a 
little      before 

noon.  Not  far  from  the  station,  there  commenced  an  old 
tote-road,  which  runs  northward  for  many  miles  toward  the 
source  of  the  Bow  River.  This  tote-road  had  been  hastily 
built  for  wagons,  previous  to  the  construction  of  the  rail- 
road through  the  Kicking  Horse  Pass,  for  at  one  time  it 
was  thought  the  line  would  cross  the  range  by  the  Howse 
Pass. 

Thus  for  several  miles  we  enjoyed  easy  and  rapid  trav- 
elling. The  weather  was  mild  and  pleasant,  and  my  men 
seemed  pleased  at  the  prospect  of  another  month  or  so  in 
camp. 

In  the  course  of  a  few  miles  we  came  to  the  house  of 
an  old  prospector.      As  r'li  •.  was  the  farthest  outpost  of 


READY   TO   MARCH. 


ilil 


n 


Home  of  a  Prosj,>cctor. 


iS: 


civilization,  and  the  old  man  was  reported  to  be  an  inter- 
estinj^^  character,  I  entered  the  log-house  for  a  brief  visit. 
The  prospector's  name  was  Hunter.  I  found  him  at 
home  and  was  cordially  welcomed.  Here,  in  a  state  of 
solitude  and  absolute  loneliness,  with  no  lake  or  stream  to 
entertain,  and  surrounded  by  a  bristling  maze  of  bleached 
bare  sticks  looking  like  the  masts  of  countless  ships  in  a 
great  harbor,  this  man  had  spent  several  years  of  his  lifi-, 
and,  moreover,  was  apparently  happy.  On  his  table  I  saw 
spread  about  illustrated  magazines  from  the  United  States 
and  Canada,  newspapers,  and  books.  The  house  was 
roughly  but  comfortably  finished  inside,  and  furnished 
with  good  chairs  and  tables  evidently  imported  from 
civilization. 

This  isolated  dwelling  and  its  solitary  inhabitant 
reminded  me  somewhat  of  Thoreau  at  Walden  Pond. 
Like  this  lover  of  nature,  Hunter  enjoys  his  hermit  life, 
which  he  varies  occasionally  by  a  visit  to  the  village  of 
Laggan.  Hunter  had  the  better  house  of  the  two  men, 
but  Thoreau  must  have  had  much  more  to  entertain  him, 
in  his  garden,  and  the  beautiful  lake  with  its  constant 
change  of  light  and  shadow,  and  the  surrounding  forests 
full  of  well-known  plants  and  trees,  where  his  bird  and 
animal  friends  lived  in  undisturbed  possession. 

No  sooner  had  we  taken  leave  of  this  interesting  home 
of  the  old  prospector,  than  the  trail  plunged  into  the 
intricacies  of  the  burnt  timber,  and  our  horses  were 
severely  tried.  Peyto  and  another  man  had  been  at  work 
on  this  part  of  the  trail  for  two  days,  very  fortunately  for 


il 


wrw 


I 


MX 


1 88 


The  CaiKulian  Rockies. 


; 


us.  as  without  sonu;  clearing;  \vc  should  not  have  been 
able  to  force  our  way  through. 

The  tire  had  run  through  after  the  tote-road  was  built, 
so  that  the  fallen  timber  now  rendered  it  nearly  inipas- 
sal)le  in  many  places.  The  forest  fires  have  been  much 
more  frequent  since  the  country  has  been  opened  by  the 
whites,  but  it  would  be;  a  great  mistake  to  conclude  that 
before  the  arrival  of  civilized  men  the  country  was  clothed 
by  an  uninterrupted  primeval  forest.  When  we  read  the 
accounts  of  Alexander  Macktinzie,  and  the  earliest 
explorers  in  the  Rocky  Mountains,  we  find  burnt  timber 
frequently  mentioned. 

However,  these  accounts  only  cover  the  last  on(>  hun- 
dred years,  and  records  of  geology  must  be  sought  previous 
to  1793.  Dr.  Dawson  mentions  a  place  near  the  How 
Ri\er  where  forest  trees  at  least  one  hundred  years  old 
an;  growing  over  a  bed  of  charcoal  made  by  an  ancient 
forest  fire.  Another  bank  near  the  How  River,  not  far 
from  Hanff,  reveals  seven  layers  of  charcoal,  and  under 
each  layer  the  clay  is  reddened  or  otherwise  changed  by 
the  heat.  Thus  the  oldest  records  carr)'  us  back  thou- 
sands of  years.  The  cause  of  these  ancient  fires  was 
probably,  in  great  part,  lightning,  and  possibly  the 
escaping  camp  fires  of  an  aboriginal   race  of  men. 

Forest  fires  in  the  Canadian  Rockies  only  prevail  at 
one  season  of  the  year — ^in  July,  August,  and  September^ 
— when  the  severe  heat  dries  up  the  underbrush  and  fallen 
timber.  Earlier  than  this,  everything  is  saturated  by  the 
melting  snows  of  wii:ter,  while  in  autumn  the  sharp  frosts 


I'orcst  I  "ires. 


189 


ami  lu'avy  m'Ljht  dews  keep  tlu;  forests  cUun|j.  Accordingly 
to  tlu:  condition  of  the  trees,  a  forest  fire  will  hum  some- 
times slowly  and  sometimes  with  fearful  ra[)idiiy.  When 
a  lon<,f  period  ot  dry,  hot  weather  has  [prevailed,  the  fire, 
once  starteil,  leaps  from  tree  to  tree,  while  the  sparks  soar 
high  into  tht;  air  ami,  droppint;  farMier,  kindle  a  thousand 
places  at  once.  The  furious  uprusii  of  heatitd  air  causes 
a  strong  draught,  which  fans  the  lire  into  a  still  more 
intense  heat.  Sometimes  whirlwinds  of  smoke  and  heated 
air  are  seen  above  the  forest  fires,  ami  at  other  times  the 
great  mass  of  vajjor  and  smoke  rises  to  such  a  height  that 
condensation  cMisues,  and  cloutls  are  formetl.  in  the  sum- 
mer of  1893,  a  forest  fire  was  raging  about  live  miles  east 
of  Laggan.  Standing  at  an  altitude  of  9000  feet,  I  hatl 
a  grand  view  of  the  ascending  smoke  and  vapors,  which 
rose  in  the  form  of  a  great  mushroom,  or  at  other  timi's 
more  like  a  pine  tree,  in  fact,  resembling  a  \olcanic  erup- 
tion. Judging  by  the  height  of  Mount  Temple,  the  clouds 
rose  about  13,000  feet  above  the  valley,  or  to  an  altitude 
of  18,000  feet  above  sea-level.  It  was  a  cumulus  cloud, 
shining  brilliant  in  the  sunlight,  but  often  rexcaling  a  cop- 
pery cast  from  the  presence  of  smoke.  The  ascending 
vapors  gave  a  striking  example  of  one  of  the  laws  of 
rising  air  currents.  The  tendency  of  an  ascending  col- 
umn of  air  is  to  break  up  into  a  succession  of  uprushes, 
separated  by  brief  intervals  of  repose,  and  not  to  rise 
steadily  and  constantly.  The  law  was  clearly  illustrated 
by  this  cloud,  which,  at  intervals  of  about  five  or  six 
minutes,    would     nearly     disappear     and     then     rapidlv 


ti< 


iv 


TT 


!l   I! 


I  1 


r 


:'! 


190 


The  Caiiaclian  Rockies. 


form  aj^Miii  ami  rise  to  an  immense  hcij^fht  and  mag- 
nitudi'. 

In  the  course  of  a  fc!\v  years  after  a  forest  fire  lias 
swept  alonjr  Its  ilestruclive  course;,  the  work  of  regenera- 
tion heirins,  and  a  new  crop  of  trees  appears.  .Some- 
times the  s^^rowth  is  alike  all  over  the  burnt  region,  young 
trees  s[)ringing  up  spontaneously  everywhere,  and  some- 
times the  surrounding  gree-n  forests  send  out  skirmishers, 
and  gradually  encroach  on  the  burnt  areas.  Curiously 
enough,  however,  a  new  kind  of  tree  replaces  th(  old 
almost  invariably.  Out  on  the  jjrairie  the  poplar  usually 
follows  the  coniferous  trees,  but  in  the  Rockies,  where  the 
poplar  can  not  grow  at  high  altituiles,  the  pinc.-s  follow 
after  spruce  and  balsam,  or  rvW-  versa.  The  contest  of 
species  in  nature  is  so  keen  that  the  slightest  advantage 
gained  by  any,  is  sufficient  to  cause  its  universal  establish- 
ment. This  is  probabi)-  due  to  the  fact  that  the  soil  becomes 
somewhat  exhausted  in  the  particular  elements  needed  by 
one  species  of  tree,  so  that  when  they  are  removed  by  an 
unnatural  cause,  new  kinds  have  the  advantage  in  the 
renewed  struggle  for  existence.  Thus  wc;  have  a  natural  ro- 
tation of  crops  illustrated  in  the  replacement  of  forest  trees. 

While  we  have  been  considering  the  causes  and  effects 
of  forest  fires,  our  horses  and  men  have  been  struggling 
with  the  more  material  side  of  the  question,  and  as  the 
imagination  leaps  lightly  over  all  sorts  of  obstacles,  let  us 
now  overtake  them  as  they  arrive  at  a  good  camping  place 
about  eight  miles  from  Laggan.  Here  the  Bow  is  no 
longer  worthy  the  name  of  a  river,  but  is  rather  a  broad, 


|1 


The  Lower  Bow  Lake. 


191 


shallow  stream,  llowinj^Mvith  motli-raU'  rapiclity.  'I'owaiclH 
evcnitij^f  I't-yto  shot  a  black  cluck  on  the  river,  aiul  I  cauj^Hit 
a  line  strin^^r  of  trout,  so  that  our  cani])  fare  was  much 
improved. 

The  ne.xt  clay  we  marched  for  aljout  three  hours 
throu^fJi  light  forests  and  extensive  swamps,  final!)'  pitch- 
ing; our  camp  near  the  fir.st  How  Lake.  The  fishing  was 
remarkably  fine  in  this  part  of  the  river.  From  a  single 
pool  I  caught,  in  less  than  three  minutes,  five  trout  which 
averaged  more  than  one  pound  each.  We  camped  in  this 
place  for  two  days  in  ordc;r  to  have  time  to  explore  about 
the  lake.  This  first  How  Lake  is  about  four  miles  long,  by 
perhaps  one  mile  wide,  and  occupies  the  gently  curving 
basin  of  a  valley  which  here  sweeps  into  that  of  the  How. 
There  is  something  remarkable  in  the  unusual  manner  in 
which  the  Bow  River  divides  itself  into  two  streams  some 
time  before  it  reaches  this  lake.  The  lesser  of  these  two 
streams  continut;s  in  a  straight  course,-  down  the  valley, 
Yvhile  the  larger  deviates  to  the  west  and  Hows  into  the 
lower  end  of  the  lake,  only  to  flow  out  again  about  a 
fourth  of  a  mile  farther  ilown,  at  the  extreme  end  of  the 
lake.  The  island  thus  formed  is  intersected  everywhere 
by  the  ancient  courses  of  the  river,  which  are  now  marked 
by  crooked  and  devious  channels,  in  great  part  filled  with 
clear  water,  forming  pools  everywhere.  This  whole  region 
must  have  once  formed  part  of  a  much  larger  lake,  as  for 
several  miles  down  the  valley  there  are  extensive  swamps, 
almost  perfectly  level  and  underlaid  by  large  deposits  of 
fine  clay. 


I  I 


t« 


\i  : 


'  u 


n 


192 


The  Canadian  Rockies. 


The  drier  places  in  these  tnuskegs  are  covered  with  a 
growth  of  bushes  or  ckinips  of  trees,  gathered  together  on 
hummocks  sHghtly  elevated  above  the  gen(>ral  level.  A 
rich  </rowth  of  j-rasi  and  sedsje  covers  the  lower  and 
wetter  places,  which  often  assume  all  the  features  of  a 
peat  bog,  with  a  thick  growth  of  s[)hagnum  mosses,  while 
th(?  grountl  trembU-s,  for  many  yards  about,  under  the 
tread  of  men  and  horses. 

The  next  day  Peyto  and  I  crossed  the  river  on  one  of 
our  best  horses  known  as  the  "  Hay,"  and  after  turning 
him  back  tf)wards  the  meadow,  we  started  on  a  tramp 
around  the  lake.  We  followed  the  west  shore  for  the 
entire  distance.  The  last  half  mile  was  over  a  talus  slope 
of  loose  stones,  broken  down  from  the  overhanging  moun- 
tain, and  now  disposed  at  a  very  steep  angle.  There  was 
a  barely  perceptible  shelf  or  beach  about  six  inches  wide, 
just  at  the  edge  of  the  water,  which  we  gladly  took 
advantage  of  while  it  lasted. 

The  glacial  stream  entering  the  lake  has  built  out  a 
curious  delta,  not  fan-shaped  as  we  should  expect,  but 
almost  perfectly  straight  from  shore  to  shore.  This  delta 
is  a  great  gravel  wash,  nearly  level,  and  quite  bare  of 
trees  or  plants,  except  a  few  herbs,  the  seeds  of  which 
have  lately  been  washed  down  from  higher  up  the  \alley. 
All  this  material  has  been  carried  into  the  lake  since  the 
time  when,  in  the  great  Ice  Age,  these  valleys  were 
flooded  with  glaciers  several  thousand  feet  in  depth. 

.\s  we  turned  the  corner  near  the  end  of  the  gravel 
wash,  the  glaciers  at   the    head   of    the   valley  began   to 


If^ 


Momif  Dalv. 


■•!■', 


f     t 


n 


I     I         9- 


i 


A  Mountain  Flooded  with  Ice. 


193 


appear,  and  in  a  few  more  steps  we  commanded  a  ma(>-nifi- 
cent  view  of  a  great  mountain,  literally  covered  by  a  vast 
sheet  of  ice  and  s.iow,  from  the  very  summit  down  to  our 
level.     As  we  boked  up  the   long   gentle  slope  of  this 
mountain,  we  could  hardly  realize  that  it  rose  more  than 
5000  feet  above  us.     The  glacier  which  descended  into 
the  valley  was  not  very  wide,  but  showed  the  lines  of  flow 
very   clearly.     Six   converging  streams  of    ice   united   to 
form  the  glacier  on  our  right,  while  the  glacier  on  the  left 
poured  do  vn  a  steep  descent  from  the  east,  and  formed  a 
beautiful  ice  cascade,  where  the  sharp-pointed  sa-acs,  lean- 
ing forward,   resembled  a  cataract  suddenly  frozen   and 
rendered  motionless.     As  if  by  way  of  contrast,  a  beauti- 
ful little  waterfall  poured  gracefully  over  a  dark  precipice 
of  rock  on  the  opposite   side  of   the  valley,  and   added 
motion   to   this  grand   expanse  of   dazzling  white   snow. 
The  loud-roaring,  muddy  stream  near  where  we  stood,  is 
one  of  the  principal  sources  of  the  Bow,  and,  after  deposit- 
ing its  milky  sediment  in  the  lake,  the  waters  flow  out 
purified  and  crystal  cleat ,  of  that  deep  blue  color  charac- 
teristic of  glacial  water.     On  a  smaller  scale  this  lake  is 
like  Lake  Geneva,  with  the   Rhone  entering  at  one  end, 
muddy  and  polluted  with  glacial  clan's,  and  flowing  out 
at  the  other,  transparently  clear,   and  blue  as  the  skies 
above  it. 

After  a  partial  ascent  of  Mount  Rector  on  the  next 
day,  we  moved  our  camp  and  continued  our  progress  up 
the  Bow  River  for  about  two  hours.  Here  we  cam])ed  on 
a  terrace  near  the  water,  surrounded  on  all  sides  by  )  vciy 


^m'-i^'-wnammmBm 


k  I: 


194 


The  Canadian  Rockies. 


lit;ht  forest  in  a  cliarmin<j^  spot.  On  the  following  day  the 
trail  ietl  us  for  two  miles  through  some  very  bad  country, 
where  the  horses  broke  through  the  loose  ground  between 
the  roots  of  trees,  and  in  their  efforts  to  extricate  them- 
selves were  often  in  great  danger  of  breaking  a  leg. 
Fortunately,  however,  this  was  not  of  long  duration.  The 
trail  soon  improved  and  became  \ery  clearly  marked  like 
a  well  made  bridle-path.  It  led  us  along  the  banks  of 
the  How,  through  groves  of  black  pine,  with  a  few  spruces 
intermingled.  The  ascent  was  constant,  though  gradual, 
and  our  altitude  was  made  apparent  by  the  manner  in 
which  the  trees  grew  in  clumps,  and  by  the  fact  that  the 
forests  were  no  longer  densely  luxuriant,  but  quite  open, 
so  that  the  horses  could  go  easily  among  the  trees  in  any 
direction. 

In  about  three  hours  after  leaving  camp,  our  horses 
entered  an  open  meadow  where  the  trail  deserted  us,  but 
there  was  not  the  slightest  difficulty  in  making  good 
progress.  To  the  south,  a  great  wall  of  rock  rose  to  an 
immense  height,  one  of  the  lower  escarpments  of  the 
VVaputehk  Range,  and  as  we  progressed  through  the 
pleasant  moors  a  remarkable  glacier  was  gradually  re- 
vealed, clinging  to  the  cliffs  in  a  three-pronged  mass. 
As,  one  by  one,  these  branches  of  the  glaciers  were  dis- 
closed, tbey  appeared  first  in  profili'.  and  owing  to  the  very 
steep  pitch  down  which  the  ice  was  forced  to  descend, 
the  glacier  was  rent  and  splintered  into  deep  crevasse;., 
with  sharp  pinnacles  of  ice  between,  which  appeared  to 
lean  out  over  the  .icep  descent  and  threaten  to  fall  at 
aiv   moment. 


The  Upper  I^ow  Lake. 


195 


The  absence  of  trees  to  the  north  of  us,  and  the 
general  depression  of  the  country  in  that  chrection,  i^ave 
us  every  indication  tliat  we  were  approachiiiL;  the  Upper 
Bow  Lak(.',  nor  were  our  surmises  incorrect,  for  in  a  few 
minutes  more  of  progress,  after  seeing  the  glacier,  glimpses 
of  water  surface  were  to  be  had  in  the  near  distance  among 
the  trees.  I  went  ahead  of  our  column  of  horses  and 
selected  a  beautiful  site  for  our  camp,  on  the  shore  of  the 
lake,  only  a  few  yards  from  the  water.  The  surrounding 
region  was  certainly  the  most  charming  I  have  seen  in 
the  Rocky  Mountains.  The  lake  on  which  we  camped 
was  nearly  cut  off  from  the  main  body  of  water  to  the 
north,  by  a  contraction  of  the  shores  to  a  narrow  channel. 
In  fact,  it  might  bt;  regarded  as  a  land-locked  harbor  of 
the  Upper  How  Lake.  Just  belov*  our  camping  place  the 
waters  were  contracted  again,  and  descended  in  a  shallow 
rapid  to  another  lake,  !!;>•; ing  against  the  mountain  side 
on  the  south.  This  latter  lake  is  about  three  or  four 
feet  lower  than  th.  others,  and  appeared  to  be  about 
two-thirds  of  a  mile  in  length. 

This  region,  for  the  artist  with  pencil  and  brush, 
woukl  be  a  fairy-land  of  inexhaustible  treasures.  The 
shores  along  these  various  lakes  were  of  a  most  irregular 
nature,  and  in  sweeping  curves  or  sudden  turns,  formed 
innumerable  coves  and  bays,  no  less  pleasing  by  reason 
of  their  small  extent.  Long,  low  stretches  of  land,  adorned 
with  forest  trees,  stretcheil  straight  and  narrow  far  out 
into  the  two  larger  hikes,  their  ends  dissolving  into  chains 
of  wooded  islands,  separated  from  the  mainland  by  shal- 


^'C 


:  I 


:   I 


'f.(| 

I 


i  1 

l^:'i 


196 


The  Canadian  Rockies. 


low  channels  of  the  clearest  water.  In  every  direction 
were  cliarminjj^  vistas  of  wooded  isles  and  bushy  shores, 
while  in  the  distance  were  the  irreafular  outlines  of  the 
mountains,  their  imat^es  often  reflected  in  the  surface  of 
the  water.  The  very  nature  of  the  shores  themselves, 
besides  their  irregular  contours,  varied  from  place  to  place 
in  a  remarkable  manner.  In  one  locality  the  waters 
became  suddenly  deep,  the  abrupt  shores  were  rocky,  and 
formed  low  cliffs  ;  in  other  places  the  bottom  shelved  off 
more  gradually,  and  there  would  be  a  narrow  beach  of 
sand  and  small  pebbles,  ofttimes  strewed  with  the  wreck- 
age of  some  storm, — a  massive  tree  trunk  washed  upon 
the  beach,  or  stranded  in  shallow  water  near  the  shore. 

There  were,  moreover,  many  shallow  areas  and 
swampy  tracts  where  a  rich,  rank  growth  of  water  grasses 
and  sedges  extended  into  the  lake.  Such  border  regions 
between  the  land  and  water  were  perhaps  the  most 
beautiful  and  attractive  of  all  the  many  variations  of 
these  deligjitful  shores.  The  coarse,  saw-edged  leaves 
of  the  sedges,  harsh  to  the  touch,  are  pliant  in  the 
gentlest  breath  of  wind.  The  waving  meadows  of  green 
banners,  or  ribbons,  rising  above  the  water,  uniform  in 
height,  and  sensitive  to  the  slightest  air  motion,  rustle 
continuously  as  the  breezes  sweep  over  them,  and  rub 
their  rough  surfaces  together. 

From  this  region,  wherein  were  combined  so  many 
charming  views  of  nature,  with  mountain  scenery,  lakes, 
islands,  and  forests,  all  of  the  most  attractive  kind,  it 
proved  impossible  to  move  our  camp  for  several  days. 


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upper  Bo7o  Lake. 

Looking  east. 


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Excursions. 


•97 


Durinij  the  time  that  we  remained  here,  our  explora- 
tions and  wanderinjrs  took  us  aIon<,^  all  the  shores  and 
islands,  and  up  the  nei<rhbo-inji^  mountain  slopes.  On 
one  of  the  islands  opposite  our  camp  we  discovered  a 
small  pool  of  singular  formation.  The  pool  was  nearly 
circular,  and  about  ten  yards  in  diameter.  The  bottom 
was  funnel-shaped,  and  in  the  very  centre  was  a  black 
circle — in  fact  a  bottomless  hole — apparently  connected 
by  dark  subterranean  channels  with  the  depths  of  the 
adjacent  lake.  Its  borders  were  low^  and  swampy,  where 
the  sponij^y  t^^round  quaked  as  we  moved  about,  and 
trembled  so  much  that  we  feared  at  any  moment  to  be 
swallowed  up.  In  fact  the  whole  pool  became  rippled  by 
the  movements  of  its  banks. 

The  glacier  opposite  was  the  object  of  another  trip, 
and  this,  too,  proved  interesting.  The  neve  on  the  flat 
plateau  above  discharges  its  surplus  ice  for  the  most  part 
by  hanging  glaciers,  which  from  time  to  time  break  off 
and  fall  down  the  precipice.  We  were  often  startled 
both  day  and  night  by  the  thunder  of  these  avalanches. 
Two  tongues  of  ice,  however,  effect  a  descent  of  the 
precipice  where  the  slope  is  less  steep,  and  though  much 
crevassed  and  splintered  by  the  rapid  motion,  they  reach 
the  bottom  intact.  Here  the  two  streams,  together  with 
the  accumulations  of  ice  constantly  falling  down  from 
above,  become  welded  into  a  single  glacier,  which  ter- 
minates only  a  short  distance  from  the  lake.  The  most 
unusual  circumstance  about  this  glacier  is  the  fact  that 
the    ice    is    much    higher   at    the  very  end    than  a  little 


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198 


The  Canadian  Rockies. 


farther  back,  so  that  a  threat,  swelhiiji^  mound  of  ice, 
about  200  feet  thick,  forms  the  termination. 

About  one  fourth  of  a  mile  below  the  end  of  the 
glacier,  on  an  old  moraine  ridge  now  covered  over  with 
luxuriant  forest,  we  saw  a  towering  cliff  of  rock  rising 
above  the  trees.  This  proved,  on  a  closer  examination, 
to  be  a  separate  boulder,  which  must  have  been  carried 
there  by  the  ice  a  long  time  ago.  It  was  of  colossal  pro- 
portions, at  least  sixty  feet  high,  and  nearly  as  large  in 
its  other  dimensions.  From  the  top  we  had  an  extensive 
view  of  the  lakes  and  valleys  ;  while  at  its  base  we  found 
on  one  side  an  overhanging  roof,  making  so  complete  a 
shelter,  that  it  was  not  difficult  to  imagine  this  place  to 
have  been  used  by  savages,  in  some  past  age,  as  a  cave 
dwelling. 

Many  years  ago,  not  less  than  one  hundred,  the  forests 
on  the  slopes  to  the  east  of  the  valley  had  been  devas- 
tated by  a  fire.  The  long  lapse  of  time  intervening  had, 
however,  nearly  obliterated  the  dreary  effects  of  this 
destruction.  The  trees  hail  replaced  themselves  scatter- 
ingly  among  the  dead  timber,  and  attained  a  large  size. 
The  fallen  trunks  showed  the  great  length  of  time  they 
had  lain  on  the  ground  by  the  spongy,  decomposed  con- 
dition of  the  wood.  Many  of  the  trunks  had  dissolved 
into  red  humus,  the  last  stage  of  slowly  decomposing 
wood,  and  the  fragments  were  disposed  in  lines,  bare  of 
vegetation,  indicating  where  each  tree  had  found  its  final 
resting-place. 

The  swampy  shores  and  large  extent  of  water  surface 


V\'- 


Insect  Life. 


199 


I  i 


in  this  region  fostered  many  varieties  of  ji;nats,  mosqui- 
toes, and  other  insects,  though,  fortunately,  not  in  such 
great  numbers  as  to  be  very  troublesome.  In  fact,  the 
season  of  the  year  was  approaching  that  period  when  the 
mosquitoes  suddenly  and  regularly  disappear,  for  some 
unexplained  n.ason.  I  have  always  noticed  that  in  the 
Canadian  Rockies  the  mosquitoes  become  much  reduced 
in  numbers  between  th^;  15th  and  20th  of  August,  and 
after  that  time  cause  little  or  no  trouble.  In  order,  how- 
ever, that  there  may  be  no  lack  of  insect  pests,  nature 
has  substituted  several  species  of  small  flies  and  midgets, 
which  appear  about  this  time  and  follow  in  a  rotation  of 
species,  till  the  sharp  frosts  of  October  put  an  end  to  all 
active  insect  life.  Some  of  these  small  pests  are  no  less 
troublesome  than  the  mosquitoes  which  have  preceded 
them,  though  they  afford  a  variation  in  their  manner  of 
annoyance,  and  are  accordingly  the  more  endurable. 

Along  the  reedy  shores  of  the  lake  and  sometimes 
over  its  placid  surface,  when  the  air  was  quiet  toward 
evening,  we  often  saw  clouds  of  gnats  hovering  motion- 
less in  one  spot,  or  at  times  moving  restlessly  from  place 
to  place,  like  some  lightless  will-o'-the-wisp,  composed  of 
a  myriad  of  black  points,  darting  and  circling  one  about 
another.  Nature  seems  to  love  circular  motion  :  for  just 
as  the  stars  composing  the  cloudy  nebulae  revolve  about 
their  centres  of  gravity  in  infinite  numbers,  moving  for- 
ever, through  an  infinity  of  space  ;  so  do  these  ephemeral 
creations  of  our  world  pass  their  brief  lives  in  a  ceaseless 
vortex  of  complicated  circles. 


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300 


The  Canadian  Rockies. 


O.i  one  occasion  we  built  a  raft  to  ferry  us  across  the 
narrow  part  of  the  lake  so  that  we  might  try  the  fishing 
on  the  farther  side.  The  raft  was  hastily  constructed, 
and,  after  we  had  reached  deep  water,  it  proved  to  fee  in  a 
state  of  stable  equilibrium  only  when  the  upper  surface 
was  a  yard  under  water.  After  a  thorough  wetting  we 
finally  reached  the  shore,  and  proceeded  to  build  a  more 
trustworthy  craft. 

On  the  2 1  St  of  August  we  moved  our  camp  down  to 
the  north  end  of  the  lake.  Here  the  nature  of  the  scenery 
is  entirely  changed.  Whereas  the  lower  end  of  the  lake 
abounds  in  land-locked  channels  and  wooded  islands,  so 
combined  as  to  make  the  most  pleasing  and  artistic  pic- 
tures from  every  shore,  the  other  part  of  this  lake  pre- 
sents regular  shore  lines,  and  everything  is  formed  on  a 
more  extensive  scale.  The  north  side  of  the  lake  is 
curved  in  a  great  arc,  so  symmetrical  in  appearance  that 
it  seems  mathematically  perfect,  and  the  eye  sweeps  along 
several  miles  of  shore  at  a  single  glance  as  though  this 
were  some  bay  on  the  seacoast. 

As  we  neared  the  north  end  of  the  lake,  a  valley  was 
disclosed  toward  the  west,  and  an  immense  glacier  ap- 
peared descending  from  the  crest  of  the  Waputehk  Range. 
Even  at  a  distance  of  three  or  four  miles,  this  glacier 
revealed  its  great  size.  The  lower  part  descended  in 
several  regular  falls  to  nearly  the  level  of  the  lake.  In 
the  lower  part,  the  glacier  is  less  than  a  mile  in  width,  but 
above,  the  ice  stream  expands  to  three  or  four  miles,  and 
extends  back    indefinitely,   probably  ten  miles  or   more. 


upper  Bow  Lake. 

Looking  west. 


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Companions. 


201 


This  Great  Bow  (ilacicr  had  the  same  position  rehiti\cly 
to  the  lake,  as  the  glacier  we  visited  at  the  Lower  IJovv 
Lake  held  to  that  body  of  water. 

A  better  knowledge  of  these  lakes  revealed  a  striking 
similarity  between  them.  Each  lake  occupies  a  curving 
valley,  which  in  each  case  enters  the  Bow  valley  from  the 
south.  The  two  lakes  are  about  the  same  size  and 
nearly  the  same  shape,  a  long  gentle  curve  about  five 
times  longer  than  broad.  At  the  head  of  each,  though 
at  slightly  different  distances,  are  large  glaciers.  The 
glacial  streams  have  likewise  formed  flat  gravel  washes, 
or  deltas,  which  have  encroached  regularly  on  the  lake 
and  formed  a  straight  line  from  shore  to  shore,  perfectly 
similar  one  to  another.  A  further  resemblance  might  be 
observed  in  the  presence  of  two  talus  slopes  from  the 
mountain  sides,  in  each  case  on  the  south  side;  of  the 
lake,  near  the  delta.  The  Lower  Bow  Lake  is  about 
5500  feet  above  sea-level,  while  the  upper  lake  is  a  little 
more  than  6000  feet.  The  increased  altitude  has  the 
efTect  of  making  the  forest  more  open,  and  the  country 
more  generally  accessible,  in  the  region  of  the  upper  lake. 
From  one  point  on  the  shores  of  the  upper  lake,  five 
large  glaciers  may  be  counted,  the  least  of  which  is  two 
miles  long,  and  the  greatest  has  an  unknown  extent,  but  is 
certainly  ten  miles  in  length. 

Our  camp  was  pleasantly  located  in  the  woods  not 
far  from  the  water.  After  Peyto  had  put  up  the  tent 
and  got  the  camp  in  order,  with  the  horses  enjoying  a  fine 
pasture,  he  set  ofT  to  explore  the  lake  shore  toward  the 


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'I'lu'  CaiKulian  Rockies. 


Circat  (ilacicr.      1 1 1:  returned  to  cami)  about   five  o'clock 
carryinj^f  a  fine  lake  trout  wliiih  he  luul  lau^lit.      This  fish 

was  taken 
near  the  shore, 
and  was  prob- 
ably a  small 
one  compared 
with  those 
which  live  in 
deeper  water  ; 
nevertheless, 
it  measured 
twenty  -  three 
inches  in 
len_Ljth,  and 
w  e  i  j^  h  e  d 
about  seven 
pounds.  The  How  lakes  have  a  reputation  for  abounding; 
in  fish  of  a  \ery  lari^e  size.  So  far  as  I  am  aware,  no 
boat  has  ever  sailed  these  waters,  and  there  is  no  cer- 
tainty what  size  the  fish  may  reach  in  the  deeper  parts  of 
the  lake.  Judging,''  by  trout  which  have  been  cauijjht  in 
Lake  ISIinnewatika,  near  Banff,  it  is  very  probable  that 
they  run  as  high  as  thirty  or  forty  pounds. 

The  next  day,  Peyto  and  I  took  a  lunch  with  us  and 
spent  the  entire  day  exploring  and  photographing  the 
glacier  and  its  immediate  neighborhood.  The  ice  is  not 
hemmed  in  b)-  any  terminal  moraine,  but  shelves  down 
gradually    to  a  thin  edge.       In    fact  the   termination  of 


CAMP  AT  UPPER  BOW  LAKE. 


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m^wi 


The  (ircat  Bow  Cilacicr. 


-^03 


the  ^dacicr  risimhlcs  somewhat  the  hoof  of  a  horse,  or 
rather  tliat  of  a  rhinoceros,  the  clivided  portions  heinjf 
formed  by  crevasses,  while  h)nji^  thin  projections  of  ice 
spread  out  between.  It  is  a  very  easy  matter  to  j^et 
on  the  j^dacier,  ami  ([uite  safe  to  proceed  a  \on^  way 
on  its  smooth  surface.  We  had  some  fine  glimpses 
of  crevasses  so  deep  that  it  was  impossible  to  see  the 
bottom,  while  the  rich  blue  color  of  the  ice  everywhere 
revealed  to  us  marvels  of  colored  jj;rottoes  and  hollow- 
soundin^r  caverns,  their  sitles  drippin_ij  with  the  surface 
waters.  There  is  somethin*;  peculiarly  attractive,  perhaps 
from  the  dan^^er,  pertaininn^  to  a  dec  p  t;  i ^  assc  in  a  j^dacier. 
Oik.'  stands  near  the  edi^e  and  throws,  or  pushes,  larijc 
stones  into  these  caverns,  and  listens  in  awe  to  the  hollow 
echoes  from  the  depths,  or  the  muuled  splash  as  the  mis- 
sile finally  reaches  a  pool  of  water  at  the  bottom.  There 
is  a  su^j^estion  of  a  lingerint^  death,  should  one  makt;  a 
false  step  and  fall  down  these  horrible  crevasses,  where, 
wedj^'ed  between  icy  walls  far  below  the  surface,  one  could 
see  the  glimmerint;-  light  of  day  above,  while  starvation 
and  cold  prolong  their  agonies.  A  party  of  three  moun- 
taineers thus  lost  their  lives  on  Mount  Blanc  in  1820,  and 
more  than  forty  years  later  their  bodies  were  found  at  the 
foot  of  the  Glacier  des  Bossons,  whither  they  had  been 
slowly  transported,  a  distance  of  several  miles,  by  the 
movement  of  the  ice.  The  most  dangerous  cre\'asses  are 
not  those  of  the  so-called  "dry  glacier,"  where  the  bare  ice  is 
everywhere  visible,  but  those  of  the  hitv  regions  where  the 
crevasses  are  concealed,  or  obscured  by  the  overlying  snow. 


Ifi 


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204 


The  Canadian  Rockies. 


Not  far  from  the  foot  of  the  i^lacier  the  muddy  stream 
flows  thr()u<;h  a  mM;iature  canyon,  with  walls  near  together, 
cut  out  of  a  limestone  formation.  The  water  here  rushes 
some  quarter  of  a  mile,  foaming  and  angry,  as  it  dashes 
over  many  a  fall  and  cascade.  Where  the  canyon  is  deep- 
est an  immense  block  of  limestone  about  twenty-five  feet 
long  has  fallen  down,  and  with  either  end  resting  on  the 
canyon  walls,  it  affords  a  natural  bridge  over  the  gloomy 
chasm.  As  probably  no  human  being  had  ever  crossed 
this  bridge,  we  felt  a  slight  hesitation  in  making  the 
attempt,  fearing  that  even  a  slight  jar  might  be  sufficient 
to  dislodge  the  great  mass.  It  proved,  however,  quite 
safe  and  will  undoubtedly  remain  where  it  is  for  many 
years  and  afford  a  safe  crossing-place  for  those  who  visit 
this  interesting  region. 


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CHAPTER   XII. 

Sources  of  the  liou<~Thc  Little  For/;  /'ass — Mas^nifieetue  of  the 
Scenery — Mount  Murehison — Camp  on  /.'  •  J^ividi — A  J/i,i:;h  Afonnfain 
Ascent — Future  of  the  Jioic  Lakes — Return  itown  the  Bo;.  ■  — Search  for  a 
J'ass — Remarkable  Agility  of  Pack- Horses—  The  ''Bay  "  (///(/  the  '' Pinto  " 
— Mountain  Solitudes — Mount  Hector — DiJJicult  Nature  of  yohnston 
Creek — A  Blinding::  Sno^v-Stomi— Forty-Mile  Creek — Afount  Fdith  Bass. 

AP^INE  trout  stream  entered  the  lake  near  our  camp. 
This  was,  in  fact,  the  Bow  River,  It  held  a  mean- 
derinjj^  course  a  short  distance  before  enterinj^ 
the  lake,  throui^h  a  level  meadow,  or  rather  an  open 
region,  thickly  grown  over  with  alder  bushes  and  other 
shrubby  plants. 

We  were  delayed  at  this  camp  by  a  period  of  unsettled 
weather  with  occasional  storms  and  strong  winds,  so  that 
three  days  were  required  to  finish  our  explorations.  At 
length,  on  the  24th  of  August,  we  broke  camp,  and  fol- 
lowed the  Bow  valley  northwards  towards  the  source  of  the 
river.  The  valley  preserves  its  wide  character  to  the  head 
of  the  pass  and  is  unusual  among  all  the  mountain  passes 
for  several  reasons.  The  ascent  to  the  summit  is  very  grad- 
ual and  constant,  the  valley  is  wide,  and  the  country  is 
quite  open.  In  about  two  hours  we  came  to  the  summit, 
and,  after  a  long  level  reach,  the  slope  insensibl)'  changed 
and  tlie  direction  of  drainage  was  reversed. 

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'V:      ' 

206 


The  Canadian  Rockies. 


This  was  a  most  delightful  region.  The  smooth  valley 
bottom  sloped  gradually  upward  toward  the  mountains  on 
the  east  and  west,  and  insensibly  downward  toward  the 
valleys  north  and  south,  thus  making  an  extensive  region 
with  gentle  slopes  curving  in  two  directions,  which  in  some 
way  impresses  the  mind  with  a  sense  of  quiet  grandeur 
and  indefinite  liberty.  Hut  chiefly  this  region  of  the  divide 
is  made  charming  by  a  most  beautiful  arrangement  of  the 
trees.  There  are  no  forests  here,  nor  do  the  trees  grow 
much  in  groves  or  clum[)s,  but  each  tree  stands  apart,  at 
a  long  interval  from  every  other,,  so  that  the  branches 
spread  out  symmetrically  in  every  direction  and  give  per- 
fect forms  and  beautiful  outlines.  Between  are  smooth 
meadows,  quite  free  of  brush,  but  crowded  with  flowering 
plants,  herbs,  and  grasses,  so  that  the  general  impression 
is  that  of  a  gentleman's  park,  under  the  control  and  care 
of  a  landscape  gardener,  rather  than  of  the  undirected 
efforts  of  nature. 

I  shall  never  forget  the  first  view  we  had  into  the 
valley  of  the  Saskatchewan.  Approaching  a  low  ridge 
at  the  south  side  of  the  valley,  suddenly  there  is  re- 
vealed a  magnificent  panorama  of  glaciers,  lakes,  and 
mountains,  unparalleled  among  the  Canadian  Rockies  for 
its  combination  of  grandeur  and  extent.  To  the  south, 
one  beholds  the  end  of  an  immense  glacier,  at  the  termi- 
nation of  which  there  are  two  great  arched  caverns  in  the 
ice.  From  out  these  issue  two  roaring  glacial  streams, 
the  source  of  the  Saskatchewan  River,  or  at  least  of  its 
longest  tributary  called  the  Little  Fork.      Lofty  mountains 


if. 


Source  of  tlic  Little  I^ork  of  the 
Saskatcheivan  River. 


V,  i 

I'     '- 


it> 


*  ,! 


r 


\H 


I 


1 


■  Ir 
,  '1 


■  I 


11 


liM 


I: 


The  Little  T^ork  Pass. 


207 


hem  in  this  glacier  on  either  side,  only  revealing  a  portion 
of  the  vast  neve  which  may  be  seen  extending  southward 
for  six  or  seven  miles. 

To  the  north  and,  as  it  were,  at  our  feet,  though  in 
reality  a  thousand  feet  below,  lay  a  large  and  beautiful 
lake  with  irregular  outlines.  This  lake  reaches  several 
miles  down  the  valley  of  the  Little  Fork,  which  here 
extends  northward  so  straight  and  regular,  that  the  view 
is  only  limited  at  the  distance  of  thirty  miles  by  the  long 
range  of  mountains  on  its  east  side.  Ur.  Hector,  who 
came  through  this  region  in  the  fall  of  ICS58,  comments 
on  the  magnificent  extent  and  grandeur  of  this  view. 

Through  a  notch  in  a  mass  of  mountains  to  the  north, 
there  appeared  the  extreme  summit  of  Mount  Murchison, 
a  very  sharp  and  angular  rock  peak,  which  the  Indians 
regard  as  the  highest  mountain  of  the  Canadian  Rockies. 
According  to  some  rough  angles  taken  by  Dr.  Hector, 
this  mountain  has  an  altitude  of  13,500  feet.  In  Palliser's 
Papers  a  sketch  of  this  mountain,  as  seen  from  the  sum- 
mit of  the  Pipestone  Pass,  makes  the  rock  peak  much 
more  sharp  and  striking  in  appearance  even  than  that 
of  Mount  Assiniboine,  or  of  Mount  Sir  Donald  in  the 
Selkirks. 

We  continued  our  journey  over  the  pass  and  descended 
into  the  valley  of  the  Little  Fork  for  several  miles.  The 
trail  was  very  good,  though  the  descent  was  remarkably 
steep.  We  camped  by  a  small  narrow  lake,  in  reality 
merely  an  expansion  of  the  Little  Fork.  Behind  us  was 
an  area  of  burnt  timber,  but  southward  the  forests  were 


■^r 


Ji 


J.    I 


i'  ■  1 


la 


ir  I 


208 


The  Canadian  Rockies. 


in  their  primeval  vij^or  and  the  mountains  rose  to  impres- 
sive 'jeights  above.  The  weather  became  rather  (hil)ioiis, 
and  during  the  niglit  there  was  a  fall  of  rain,  followed  by 
colder  weather,  so  that  our  tent  became  frozen   stiff  by 


morning. 


It  seemed  best  to  return  the  next  day  to  the  summit  of 
the  pass,  where  everything  conspired  to  make  an  ideal 
camping  place.  Accordingly,  the  men  packed  the  horses 
and  we  located  our  camp  on  the  crest  of  the  divide,  6350 
feet  above  sea-level.  The  tent  was  pitched  in  a  clump  of 
large  trees  surrounded  on  all  sides  by  open  meadows, 
where  one  could  wander  for  long  distances  without  en- 
countering rough  ground  or  underbrush.  Near  the  camp 
a  small  stream,  and  several  pools  of  clear  water,  were  all 
easily  accessible. 

The  next  day  I  induced  Peyto  to  ascend  a  mountain 
with  me.  He  was  not  used  to  mountain  climbing,  and 
had  never  been  any  higher  than  the  ridge  that  we  were 
compelled  to  cross  when  we  were  walking  around  Mount 
Assiniboine,  which  was  less  than  9000  feet  in  altitude. 
The  peak  which  I  had  now  in  view  lay  just  to  the  north- 
east from  our  camp  on  the  pass.  It  appeared  to  be 
between  9000  and  10,000  feet  high,  and  offered  no 
apparent  difficulties,  on  the  lower  part  at  least.  We  left 
camp  at  8:30  am.  and  passed  through  some  groves  of 
spruce  and  balsam,  where  we  had  the  good  fortune  to  see 
several  grouse  roosting  among  the  branches  of  the  trees. 
Peyto  soon  brought  them  down  with  his  six-shooter,  in 
handling  which    he  always  displays  remarkable  accuracy 


A 


Stotnn  ill  Little  Foyk  Vallcv 


if. 


T 


■; 


ll  ■ 


I   I 


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1 

;I 

K 

i 

'.          1 

1 

'    ;        1 

iH 


A  High  Mountain  Ascent. 


20C) 


and  skill.  Many  a  liiut;,  when  on  the  trail.  I  have  seen 
him  suddenly  take  his  six-shooter  and  fire  into  a  tall  tret.', 
whereupon  a  j^n.use  \vt)uld  come  tumhlinjL;  dovvr.,  with  his 
neck  seven^d,  or  his  head  knocked  off  by  t\u:  bullet. 

;\  hawk  sciMited  our  j^ame  and  came  soarinjL^  above  us 
so  that  we  had  to  hide  our  birds  under  a  coverini^  of  stones, 
as  of  course  \\r.  did  not  care  to  take  them  with  us  up  the 
mountain.  We  found  not  the  slij^htest  difficulty  in  the 
ascent  till  \\v.  came  near  the;  summit.  riii;  atmosphere 
was  remarkably  clear,  and  some  clouds  hij.,di  above  the 
mountains  remlered  the;  conditions  very  good  for  photoj^- 
raphy.  At  an  altitudi;  of  gSoo  feet  we  came  to  the  sum- 
mit of  the  trr<'/t'  which  we  were  climbinjr,  and  saw  the 
highest  point  of  the;  mountain  about  one-ihird  of  a  mile 
distant,  and  considerably  higlur.  I'ortunately,  a  crest  of 
snow  connected  the  two  [)eaks,  and  with  my  ice-axe  I 
knocked  away  th«'  sharp  edge.-,  and  made  a  path.  In  a 
few  minutes  we  were  across  the  difficult  part  and  found 
an  easy  slope  rising  gradually  to  the  summit.  We  reached 
it  at  1 1  -.7,0,  and  found  the  altitude  10,125  f*-'^^-  1 1''^'  view 
from  the  great  snow  dome  of  this  unnamed  mountain  was 
truly  magnificent.  The  Waputehk  Range  could  be  seen 
through  an  extent  of  more  than  seventy-five  miles,  while 
some  of  the  most  distant  peaks  of  tht;  Selkirks  must  have 
been  more  than  one  hundred  miles  from  where  we  stood. 
To  the  cast  about  ten  miles  was  the  high  peak  of  Mount 
Hector,  almost  touching  the  clouds. 

In  the  northern  part  of  the  Waputehk  Range  we  saw 
some  very  high  peaks,  though  the  clouds  covered  every- 

'4 


'*1 
1 


i  > 


m 


i!' 


2IO 


The  Canadian  Rockies. 


ii!    i 


thing  above  1 1 ,000  feet.  There  seemed  to  be  a  storm  in 
that  direction,  as  snow  could  be  discerned  falHng  on  the 
mountains  about  thirty  miles  distant.  The  general  uni- 
formity of  height,  and  the  absence  of  unusually  high  peaks, 
a  characteristic  feature  of  the  Canadian  Rockies,  were  very 
clearly  revealed  from  this  mountain. 

Feyto  was  overwhelmed  with  the  magnificent  pano- 
rama, and  said  that  he  now  appreciated,  as  never  before, 
the  mania  which  impels  men  to  climb  mountains.  The 
storm  which  we  saw  in  the  west  and  north  passed  over 
us  toward  evening,  in  the  form  of  gentle  showers.  On  the 
next  day,  however,  the  weather  was  perfectly  clear  and  calm. 

On  the  26th  of  August  our  horses  were  packed  and 
our  little  procession  was  in  motion  early  in  the  morning, 
and  we  were  wending  our  way  down  the  Bow  River.  I 
cannot  take  leave  of  this  region,  however,  even  in  imagi- 
nation, without  a  word  in  regard  to  the  unusual  attractive- 
ness of  this  part  of  the  mountains. 

In  the  first  place  there  are  magnificent  mountains  and 
glaciers  to  interest  the  mountaineer,  and  beautiful  water 
scenes,  with  endless  combinations  of  natural  scenery  for 
the  artist ;  moreover,  the  streams  abound  in  brook  trout 
and  the  lakes  are  full  of  large  lake  trout,  so  numerous  as 
to  afford  endless  sport  for  fishermen.  The  botanist,  the 
geologist,  and  the  general  lover  of  science  will  likewise 
find  extensive  fields  of  inquiry  open  to  him  on  every  side. 

The  time  of  travelling  required  by  us  to  reach  the 
Upper  Bow  Lake  was  about  nine  hours,  and  this  was  with 
heavily   laden  pack-horses.       Hitherto,    only    those    con- 


Moiuit  Hector  and  Slate  Mountains. 


From  summit  of  a   mountain   near   I.ittle    Fork    I'ass,    /o,/2j  feet  in 

attituile. 


!i  ! 


\>    i; 

\    '.      t 

i:/' 

1  1 

I" 


•I  . 

Ill         ) 


li 


^^ 


I  ~'  "I 

■ 


m 


li 


I, 


lii 


i 


I: 

i 


:i        > 


Visions  of  the  Future. 


21  I 


nected  with  the  early  explorations,  or  the  railroad  surveys, 
have  visited  this  lake,  but  I  cannot  look  forward  to  the 
future  without  conjuring  up  a  vision  of  a  far  different 
condition  of  things.  In  a  few  years,  if  I  mistake  not.  a 
comfortable  building,  erected  in  a  tasteful  and  artistic 
manner,  will  stand  near  the  shores  of  this  lake  on  some 
beautiful  site.  A  steam  launch  and  row-boats  or  canoes 
will  convey  tourists  and  fishermen  over  the  broad  waters 
of  the  lake,  and  a  fine  coach  road  will  connect  this  place 
with  Laggan,  so  that  passengers  may  leave  Banff  in  the 
morning  and,  after  a  ride  of  two  hours  by  railroad,  they 
will  be  transferred  to  a  coach  and  reach  the  Upper  Bow 
Lake  in  time  for  lunch  !  If  a  good  road  were  constructed 
this  would  not  be  impossible,  as  the  distance  from  Laggan 
is  only  about  twenty  miles,  and  the  total  ascent  looo  feet. 

With  such  visions  of  the  future  and  the  more  vivid 
memory  of  recent  experiences  in  mind,  we  took  leave  of 
the  beautiful  sheet  of  water,  and  continued  on  our  way 
down  the  Bow  valley.  It  was  not  our  purpose,  ho- ever, 
to  return  to  Laggan  directly,  for  Wilson  had  planned  an 
elaborate  route,  by  which  some  of  the  wilder  parts  of  the 
mountains  might  be  visited.  This  route  would  lead  us 
over  a  course  of  about  eighty  or  one  hundred  miles 
through  the  Slate  Mountains  and  Sawback  Range,  and 
eventually  bring  us  to  Banff. 

We  were  to  follow  a  certain  stream  that  enters  the 
Bow  from  the  .lorth,  but  as  we  were  now,  and  had  been 
for  many  days,  outside  the  region  covered  by  Dawson's 
map,  it  was   impossible  to  feel   certain  which  stream  we 


HI 


)  I : 


i 


'I 


.11 


21 


The  Canadian  Rockies. 


should  take.  On  our  way  up  the  Bow  River,  Peyto  had 
made  explorini:^  excursions  into  several  tributary  valleys, 
but  in  every  case  these  had  proved  to  be  hemmed  in  by 
precipitous  mountain  walls,  and  guarded  at  the  ends  by 
impassable  cliffs  or  larij^e  glaciers. 

The  second  day  after  leaving  the  lake  we  came  to  a 
larofe  stream  which  had  not  been  examined  hitherto. 
Though  we  were  far  from  certain  that  this  was  the  stream 
that  had  been  indicated  by  Wilson,  it  seemed  best  to 
follow  up  the  valley  and  see  where  we  should  come  out. 
After  ascending  an  exceedingly  steep  bank,  we  found  easy 
travelling  in  a  fairly  open  valley.  One  fact  made  us  ap- 
prehensive that  there  was  no  pass  out  of  the  valley. 
There  was  no  sign  of  a  trail  on  either  side  of  the  stream, 
and  none  of  the  trees  were  blazed.  Indian  trails  exist  in 
almost  every  valley  where  an  available  pass  leads  over  the 
summit,  and  where  there  are  no  trails  the  probability  is 
that  the  valley  is  blind,  or,  in  other  words,  leads  into  an 
impassable  mountain  wall.  The  valley  curved  around  in 
such  a  manner  that  we  could  not  tell  what  our  prospects 
were,  but  at  about  two  o'clock  we  reached  a  place  far 
above  timber  line, — a  region  of  open  moors,  absolutely 
treeless, — surrounded  by  bare  mountains  on  every  side. 

Our  tent  was  pitched  in  a  ravine  near  a  small  stream. 
Immediately  after  lunch,  Peyto  and  I  ascended  looo 
feet  on  a  mountain  north  of  the  valley  with  the  pur- 
pose of  discovering  a  pass.  From  this  point  we  saw 
Mount  Hector  due  south,  and  the  remarkable  mountain 
named   Mount    Molar,   nearly  due  east.     Three  possible 


'I  ! 


by 
by 


Camp  at  Little  Fork  Pass. 


:f» 


ij 


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ii 

111 


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1-    ; 
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T 


A  Difficult  Phicc. 


2lo 


Hi 


outlets  from  the  vaik-y  appeared  frt)in  our  hi^li  elevation. 
Peyto  set  off  alone  to  explore  a  pass  toward  the  north, 
in  the  direction  of  the  Pipestone  Pass,  while  I  mach;  an 
examination  of  a  notch  toward  the  east.  Each  [jroved 
impossible  for  horses,  if  not  for  human  beinjj^s.  The  third 
notch  lay  in  the  direction  of  Mount  Hector,  and  tom;ther 
we  set  out  to  e.xainine  it.  A  walk  of  about  two  miles 
across  the  rollintj  uplands  of  this  hij^di  region  brought  us 
to  the  pass.  It  was  very  steep,  but  an  old  Indian  trail 
proved  that  the  pass  was  available  for  horses.  The  trail 
appeared  more  like  those  made  by  tiie  mountain  goats 
than  by  human  beings,  for  it  led  up  to  a  very  rough  and 
forbidding  cliff,  where  loose  stones  and  long  disust;  had 
nearly  obliterated  the  path.  We  spent  some  time  putting 
the  trail  in  repair,  by  rolling  down  tons  of  loose  stones, 
and  making  everything  as  secure  as  possible. 

The  next  morning  was  threatening,  and  gray,  watery 
clouds  hung  only  a  little  above  the  summit  of  the  lofty 
pass,  which  was  nearly  8000  feet  above  sea-level.  I 
started  about  an  hour  before  the  outfit,  as  I  desired  to  ob- 
serve the  horses  climbing  the  trail.  I  felt  considera- 
ble anxiety  as  they  approached.  All  my  photographic 
plates,  the  result  of  many  excuriiions  and  mountain  as- 
cents in  a  region  where  the  camera  had  never  before 
been  used,  were  placed  on  one  of  the  horses,  for  which 
purpose  one  of  the  most  sure-footed  animals  had  been 
selected.  In  case  of  a  false  step  and  a  roll  down  the 
mountain  side,  the  results  of  all  this  labor  would  be  lost. 

The  horses,  however,  all  reached  the  summit  in  safety. 


I    I 


u 


it 


< 


i' 

1 

'1' 

i 


214 


The  Canadian  Rockies. 


Tht'S*.'  mouiUiiiii  pack-horses  n-vcal  a  wonckjrful  a_t,nhty 
and  sa^nicity  in  such  {lifficiihics  as  this  place  preseiued. 
In  fact,  the  several  animals  in  my  pack-train  had  become 
old  friends,  for  they  had  been  with  me  all  summer.  I*eyto, 
as  packer,  always  rode  in  tht;  saddle,  for  the  di^jnity  of 
this  office  nev(;r  allows  a  packt;r  to  walk,  and  besides,  from 
their  physical  elevation  on  a  horse's  back  they  can  bett(T 
discern  the  trail.  A  venerable  Indian  steed,  lon}^f-let,fged 
and  lean,  but  most  useful  in  fording  deep  streams,  was 
Ptiyto's  saddle-horse.  Tlu;  bell-mare  followed  ne.\t,  led 
by  a  head-rope.  The  other  horses  followed  in  sinijle  file, 
and  never  allow(;d  the  sound  of  the  bell  to  get  out  of  hear- 
ing. There  were  two  horses  in  the  train  that  were  en- 
dowed with  an  unusual  amount  of  ecjuine  intelligence  and 
sagacity.       The    larger   of    the   two    was   known   as    the 

"Bay."  and 
the  other  was 
called  "  Pin- 
to," the  latter 
being  a  name 
given  to  all 
horses  having 
1  r  r  e  g  u  1  a  r 
whit(!  mark- 
ings. These 
animals  were 
well  propor- 
tioned, with  thick  necks  and  broa-i  chests,  and,  though 
of   Indian    stock,    th(;y    probably   had    some    infusion    of 


THE       BAY." 


fri 


m 


ii 


I 


Intelligence  of  Pack   Horses. 


^'5 


Spanish  blood  in  their  veins,  derived  from  the  conciucst 
of  Mexico. 

The  Pinto  was  reniarkahl)-  (jiiick  in  selecting  the  liest 
routes  amonjr  fallen  timber,  or  in  avoidinj^^  hidden  dangers, 
but  the  Hay  was  far  more  affectionate  and  fond  of  human 
company.  In  camp,  all  the  horses  would  frecjuently  leave 
the  pasture  anil  visit  the  tent,  where  they  wouKl  stand 
near  the  fire  to  get  the  benefit  of  the  smoke  when  the  Hies 
were  thick,  or  nose  about  in  the  hope  of  getting  some  salt. 
On  the  trail,  it  was  always  very  interesting  to  watch  the 
Bay  and  Pinto.  They  would  unravel  a  pathway  through 
burnt  timber  in  a  better  manner  than  their  human  leaders, 
and  would  calculate  in  every  case  whether  it  were  better 
to  jump  over  a  log  or  to  walk  around  it.  But  one  day  I 
was  surprised  to  see  the  Bay  jump  over  a  log  which 
measured  3  feet  10  inches  above  the  ground.  With  a 
heavy,  rigid  pack  this  is  more  of  a  feat  than  to  clear  a 
much  greater  height  with  a  rider  in  the  saddle.  Sometimes 
when  the  trail  was  lost  we  would  put  the  Pinto  ahead  to 
lead  us,  and  on  several  occasions  he  found  the  trail  for  us. 
The  summit  of  the  pass  revealed  to  us  one  of  those 
lonely  places  among  the  high  mountains  where  silence 
appears  to  reign  supreme.  We  were  in  an  upland  vale, 
where  the  ground  was  smooth  and  rolling,  and  car[)eted 
with  a  short  growth  of  grass  and  herbs.  On  eithfn"  side 
were  bare  cliffs  of  limestone,  unrelieved  by  vegetation  or 
perpetual  snow.  Here  no  birds  or  insects  broke  the  silence 
of  the  mountain  solitude,  no  avalanche  thundered  among 
the  mountains,  and  even  the  air  was  calm   and  made   no 


i 


w 


Mi        i 


I  ! 


)     ! 


jii 


Ir ' 


k 


i' 

i 
1    1 

■  ■■!; 

'  •' 

1« 

1    , 

2l6 


The  Canadian  Rockies. 


sound  in  the  scanty  hcrbaj^e.  All  was  silent  as  the  desert, 
or  as  the  ocean  in  a  perfect  calm.  The  dull  tramp  of  our 
horses,  and  the  tinklinijf  of  the  bell,  were  the  only  sounds 
that  interrupted  the  death-like  quiet  of  the  place.  It  is 
said  that  such  places  soon  drive  the  lost  traveller  to  in- 
sanity, but  in  company  with  others  these  lonely  passes 
afford  a  delightful  contrast  to  the  life  and  motion  and 
sound  of  lower  altitudes. 

As  we  advanced  and  commenced  to  descend,  the  north 
side  of  Mount  Hector  began  to  appear.  It  was  completely 
covered  with  a  great  ice  sheet  and  snow  fields.  Mount 
Hector  is  a  little  more  than  ii.ooo  feet  in  altitude,  and 
gives  a  good  example  of  how  the  exposure  to  the  sun 
affects  the  size  of  glaciers  in  t'^ese  mountains.  On  the 
south  and  west  sides  of  Mount  Hector  there  is  almost  no 
snow,  while  the  opposire  slopes  are  flooded  by  a  broad 
glacier  many  miles  in  area,  and  brilliant  in  a  covering  of 
perpetual  snow. 

At  the  tree  line  a  trail  appeared,  and  led  us  in  rapid 
descent  lu  the  valley.  The  scenery  on  all  sides  was 
magnificent.  Many  waterfalls  came  dashing  down  from 
the  melting  glaciers  of  Mount  Hector  and  joined  a  torrent 
in  the  valley  bottom.  The  great  cliffs  about  us,  and  the 
lofty  mountains,  visible  here  and  there  through  avenues  in 
the  giant  forest  trees,  were  illumined  by  a  brilliant  sun, 
ever  now  and  again  breaking  through  the  clouds.  About 
eleven  o'clock  we  stopped  to  have  a  light  lunch,  as  was  our 
custom  wii  all  long  marches.  Peyto  loosed  the  girdle  of 
the  horses,  slipped  ofT  the  jjacks,  and  turned  the   animals 


Little  Pipestone  Creek. 


21  7 


into  a  meadow  near  by.  Meanwhile  our  cook  cut  fire- 
wood and  made  a  larjre  pot  of  tea,  which  always  proved 
the  most  acceptable  drink  when  a  louij^  march  had  made 
us  somewhat  weary.  These  brief  rests  of  about  forty 
minutes  in  the  midst  of  a  daj's  march  always  proved  very 
beneficial  to  men  and  horses. 

A  long  straight  valley  led  us  southwards  for  many 
miles.  In  every  clear  pool  or  stream,  trout  could  be  seen 
darting  about  and  seeking  hiding-places,  though  we  had 
no  time  to  stop  and  catch  them.  At  about  one  o'clock  we 
reached  the  Pipestone  Creek  and  obtained  a  view  of 
Mount  Temple  and  other  familiar  peaks  about  fifteen 
miles  to  the  south. 

We  camped  near  the  stream  in  a  meadow,  not  far  from 
the  Little  Pipestone  Creek,  As  the  march  of  this  day 
had  brought  us  back  to  the  region  covered  by  the  map,  we 
had  little  apprehension  of  losing  our  way  in  the  future. 

The  next  day  we  followed  up  the  Little  Pipestone 
Creek  and  enjoyed  a  fine  trail  through  a  dense  forest. 
We  camped  near  the  summit  of  a  pass  south  of  Mount 
Macoun,  which  I  partially  ascended  after  lunch.  The 
rugged  peak  named  Mount  IJouglas  lay  due  east,  and 
presented  some  very  large  and  fine  glaciers. 

Our  camp  was  on  a  little  peninsula  jutting  out  into  a 
lake,  with  water  of  a  most  l)rilliant  blue  color.  The  sun- 
set colors  this  evening  were  heightened  by  the  presence  of 
a  little  smoke  in  the  atmosphere,  which  gave  a  deep 
copper  color  to  the  western  sky,  while  the  placid  lake 
appeared  vividly  blue  in  the  evening  Hght. 


rar- 


h  -    ! 


i 


if' 


Ki 


I 


!      ) 


il 


t        ! 


218 


The  Canadian  Rockies. 


The  following-  day,  which  was  the  first  of  September, 
we  continued  south  over  a  divide  and  into  the  valley  of 
Baker  Creek,  which  we  followed  for  several  hours,  and 
then  took  a  branch  stream  which  comes  in  from  the 
east,  and  finally  camped  in  a  high  valley.  We  were  now  in 
the  Sawback  Range,  where  the  mountains  are  peculiarly 
rugged,  and  the  strata  thrown  up  at  high  angles.  The 
weather  was  giving  evidence  of  an  approaching  storm, 
and  before  we  had  made  camp  the  next  day  in  Johnston's 
Creek,  rain  began  to  fall. 

Hitherto  the  nature  of  the  country  since  leaving  the 
Upper  Bow  Lake  had  been  such  as  to  render  the  travel- 
ling very  easy  and  delightful,  but  from  this  point  on, 
we  met  with  all  sorts  of  difficulties.  In  the  lower  part  of 
Johnston's  Creek,  and  in  the  valley  of  a  tributary  which 
comes  in  from  the  northeast,  the  trail  was  covered  by 
fallen  timber,  and  our  progress  was  very  slow  and  tedious. 
Moreover,  the  weather  now  became  very  bad,  and  we 
were  caught  near  the  summit  of  a  pass  between  Baker 
Creek  and  Forty-Mile  Creek  in  a  heavy  snow-storm,  so 
that  the  trail  was  soon  obliterated  and  the  surrounding 
mountains  could  not  be  seen.  Fearing  that  we  mitrht 
lose  our  bearings  altogether,  Peyto  urged  forward  the 
horses  at  a  gallop,  so  that  \\'c  might  get  over  the  pass 
before  the  snow  gained  much  depth. 

The  descent  into  the  valley  of  P'orty-Mile  Creek  was 
very  steep,  aiid  we  camped  among  some  large  trees  with 
several  inches  of  snow  on  the  ground.  The  next  daj'  we 
urged  our  horses  on  again  and  followed  down  the  valley 


\ 


Mount  Edith  Pass. 


2  19 


of  Forty-Mile  Creek.  In  some  parts  of  the  valley  we 
found  absolutely  the  worst  travelling  I  have  anywhere 
met  with  in  the  Rockies.  The  horses  were  compelled  to 
make  long  detours  among  the  dead  timber,  and  the  axe 
was  frequently  required  to  cut  out  a  passage-way.  Vre- 
quent  snow  showers  swept  through  the  valley,  and, 
though  very  beautiful  to  look  at,  they  kept  the  under- 
brush covered  with  damp  snow  and  saturated  our  clothes 
with  water. 

In  the  afternoon  we  reached  the  summit  of  the  Mount 
Edith  Pass,  and  once  more  caught  sight  of  the  Bow 
valley  and  the  Hat  meadows  near  Banff.  A  fine  wide 
trail  or  bridle-path,  smooth  and  hard,  led  us  down  toward 
the  valley.  The  contrast  to  our  recent  trails  was  very 
striking.  We  walked  between  a  broad  avenue  of  trees, 
each  one  blazed  to  such  an  extent  that  all  the  bark 
had  been  removed  on  one  side  of  the  tree,  and  some 
were  practically  girdled.  This  was  very  different  from 
our  recent  experience  where  we  had  only  found  a  small 
insignificant  a.xe-mark  on  some  dead  tree,  about  once  in 
every  quarter  mile,  or  often  none  at  all  during  hours  of 
progress. 

On  the  fifth  of  September  we  reached  Banff  late  in 
the  evening,  and  found  that  the  valley  was  free  of  new 
snow  by  reason  of  its  lower  altitude.  We  had  been  out 
for  twenty-three  days  and  had  covered,  in  all,  about  one 
hundred  and  seventy-five  mi'.e.s. 


!i 


CHAPTER    Xlll. 


IIISTOKICAI.. 


!,  II 


'I  i 

I'll 


^i!    ' 


1 


n      \ 


Origin  and  Rise  of  the  Fur  TraJi —  7  he  Coiiretirs  ties  Bois  and  the 
Voyageurs — Perils  of  the  Canoe  Voyages — The  Hudson  Bay  Conipanv  and 
the  Northwest  Conipo'iv — Intense  Biz  airy — Dotvnfall  of  the  Northwest 
Company — Sir  Aiexa,,  '  *"  kenzie—His  Character  and  Physical  En- 
dowments —  Cook's  Expi  /IS  —  Mackenzie  Starts  to  Penetrate  the 
Rockies —  The  Peace  River — A  Marvellous  Escape  —  The  Pacific  Reached 
by  Land — Per  its  of  the  Sea  and  of  the  Wilderness. 

THE  history  of  the  early  explorations  in  the  Cana- 
dian Rockies  centres  about  the  fur  trade.  From 
the  date  of  the  very  earliest  settlements  in  Canada, 
the  quest  of  furs  had  occupied  a  position  of  chief  impor- 
tance, to  which  the  pursuits  of  agriculture,  grazing,  or 
manufacture  had  been  subordinate.  The  search  for  j^old, 
which  throughout  the  history  of  the  world  has  ever  been 
one  of  the  most  powerful  incentives  to  hardy  adventure 
and  daring  exploit,  did  not  at  first  occupy  the  attention  of 
those  who  were  ready  to  hazard  their  lives  for  the  sake  of 
possible  wealth  quickly  acquired. 

The  unremitting  and  often  ruthless  destruction  of  the 
fur-bearing  animals,  in  the  immediate  vicinity  of  the  settle- 
ments, caused  them  to  become  exceedingly  scarce,  and  at 

length  to  disappear  altogether.     Hut  fortunately  it  was  not 

220 


r 


Voyag"eurs. 


2  2  1 


difficult  to  induce  the  Indians  to  bring  their  furs  from 
more  distant  regions,  until  at  length  even  those  who  lived 
in  the  most  remote  parts  of  Canada  became  accustomed  to 
barter  their  winter  catch  at  the  settlements. 

As  the  trade  gradually  became  more  extensive,  there 
sprang  up  two  slightly  different  classes  of  men,  the 
courcurs  dcs  bois,  or  wood  rangers,  and  the  voyagcurs, 
each  of  Canadian  birth,  but  who,  by  reason  of  constant 
contact  with  the  Indians  and  long-continued  separation 
from  the  amenities  and  refinements  of  civilized  life,  came 
at  length  to  have  more  in  common  with  the  rude  savages, 
than  with  the  French  settlers  from  whom  they  were  sprung. 
Many  of  these  wilderness  wanderers  married  Indian  wives, 
and,  moreover,  their  pbstic  nature,  a  result  of  their 
French  extraction,  helped  ihem  quickly  to  assume  the 
manners  and  customs  of  the  swarthy  children  of  the 
forest.  The  voyagcurs,  like  the  coureurs  des  bois,  were 
accustomed  to  take  long  canoe  voyages,  under  the  employ 
of  some  fur  company,  or  even  of  private  individuals  ;  some- 
times alone,  but  more  often  several  banded  together,  carry- 
ing loads  of  ammunition,  provisions,  and  tobacco  from  the 
settlements  and  returning  with  their  canoes  laden  down 
with  beaver,  marten,  and  other  furs  collected  among  the 
Indians.  The  vast  domain  of  Canada  is  so  completely 
watered  by  a  network  of  large  streams,  rivers,  and  lakes, 
more  or  less  connected,  that  it  is  not  difificult  to  make 
canoe  voyages  in  almost  any  direction  throughout  the 
length  and  breadth  of  this  great  territory.  It  is  indeed 
possible  to  start  from  Montreal  and  journey  by  water  to 


u 


i  '  i ,  s 


til 


h; 


IP  I 


S  '^i 


;  (| 


^n' 


I 


* 


1  : 


lA: 


222 


The  Canadian  Rockies. 


Hudson  Bay,  the  Arctic  Ocean,  or  the  base  of  the 
Rocky  Mountains. 

The  voyagcurs  were  a  hardy  race,  possessed  of  incredi- 
ble physical  strength  and  untiring  patience,  remarkable  for 
an  implicit  obedience  to  their  superiors,  and  endowed  with 
a  happy,  careless  nature,  regardless  of  the  morrow,  so  long 
as  they  were  well-off  to-day.  While  making  their  long 
and  arduous  journeys,  the  voyageurs  would  arouse  their 
flagging  spirits  with  merriment  and  laughter,  or  awaken 
echoes  from  the  wooded  shores  and  rocky  cliffs  along  the 
rivers  and  lakes,  by  their  characteristic  songs,  to  the  accom- 
paniment of  the  ceaseless  and  rhythmic  movement  of  their 
paddles. 

How  much  of  romance  and  poetry  filled  up  the  meas- 
ure of  their  simple  lives  !  Nature  in  all  its  beauty  and 
grandeur  was  ever  around  them,  and  nature's  people — the 
Indians — were  those  with  whom  they  most  associated. 
They  loved  all  men,  and  all  men  loved  them,  whether 
civilized  or  barbarian.  The  stranger  among  them  was 
called  Cousin,  or  Brother,  and  the  great  fur  barons,  the 
partners  in  the  fur  companies,  on  whom  they  gazed  with 
awe  and  admiration,  as  they  travelled  in  regal  state  from 
post  to  post,  and  to  whom  they  bore  almost  the  relation  of 
serf  to  feudal  lord,  they  called  by  their  Christian  names. 
The  melodies  which  they  chanted  in  unison  as  they  glided 
along  quiet  rivers,  with  banks  of  changing  outlines  and 
constant  variety  of  forest  beauty,  would  hardly  cease  as 
they  dashed  madly  down  some  roaring,  snow-white  rapid, 
beset  with  dangerous  rocks,  where  a  single  false  stroke 
would  be  fatal.     F"or  many  days  continuously  they  were 


Perils  of  the  Canoe  Voyages. 


223 


wont  to  travel,  with  short  time  for  sleep,  working  hour 
after  hour  at  the  paddle,  or  making  the  toilsome  portages, 
when  they  were  accustomed  to  carry  on  their  backs  loatls 
of  almost  incredible  weight.  Nevertheless,  on  any  oppor- 
tunity for  relaxation,  they  were  ever  ready  for  revelry, 
music,  and  the  dance,  which  they  would  prolong  through- 
out the  night. 

The  usual  dress  of  the  voyageur  consisted  of  a  coat  or 
capote  cut  from  a  blanket,  a  cotton  shirt,  moccasins,  and 
leather  or  cloth  trousers,  held  in  place  by  a  belt  of  col- 
ored worsted.  A  hunting  knife  and  tobacco-pouch,  the 
latter  a  most  indispensable  adjunct  to  the  happiness  of 
the  voyagciir,  were  suspended  from  his  belt.  Sometimes 
they  would  be  absent  from  the  settlements  twelve  or 
fifteen  months,  and  many  never  returned  from  their  peril- 
ous trips.  Some  were  drowned  while  attempting  to  run 
dangerous  rapids.  Others  were  overtaken  by  the  ap- 
proach of  winter,  or  were  stopped  by  ice-bound  rivers 
impossible  to  navigate,  and  perished  miserably  from  ex- 
posure and  starvation. 

Those  who  returned,  however,  would  be  amply  re- 
warded by  the  wealth  suddenly  acquired  from  the  result 
of  their  long  toil.  The  dissipation  of  their  gains  in  the 
course  of  a  few  weeks,  accompanied  by  all  manner  of 
revelry,  licentiousness,  and  mad  extravagance,  was  their 
compensation  for  long  periods  of  privation.  At  length, 
their  means  being  exhausted,  a  longing  for  the  old  man- 
ner of  life  returned,  and  with  renewed  hopes  they  would 
recommence  their  long  journeys  into  the  wilderness. 

The  value  of  the  fur  trade  soon  aroused  the  attention 


t 


J 


I 


if  \n- 


m 


h'l 


1 1 


\i 


224 


The  Canadian  Rockies. 


of  a  number  of  wealthy  and  inniiential  traders,  and  in 
1670  a  charter  was  jj^ranted  to  Prince  Rupert  and  a  com- 
pany of  fourteen  otliers,  to  "  the  sole  trade  and  com- 
merce" throughout  all  the  regions  watered  by  streams 
flowing  into  Hudson  or  James  Bay.  This  region  was 
henceforth  known  as  Rupert's  Land.  In  addition  to  the 
right  of  trade,  the  Hudson  Bay  Company  had  the  author- 
ity of  government  and  the  dispensation  of  justice  through- 
out tills  vast  territory. 

During  the  winter  of  1783-4,  however,  a  number  of 
Canadian  merchants,  previously  engaged  in  the  fur  trade, 
joined  their  several  interests,  and  formed  a  coalition  which 
assumed  the  name  of  the  Northwest  Company. 

This  organization,  governed,  as  it  was,  by  different 
principles  from  that  of  the  Hudson  Bay  Company,  soon 
became  a  powerful  rival.  The  younger  men  in  the  North- 
west Company  were  fired  with  ambition  and  assured  of  an 
adequate  reward  for  their  services.  While  for  many  years 
their  older  rivals  had  slumbered,  content  with  the  limits 
of  their  territory,  the  more  enterprising  Northwest  Com- 
pany, with  infinite  toil  and  danger,  extended  their  posts 
throughout  the  interior  and  western  parts  of  Canada,  and 
opened  up  a  new  and  hitherto  undeveloped  country. 
Another  great  advantage  that  the  Northwest  Company 
had  over  the  Hudson  Bay  Company  resulted  from  their 
employment  of  the  suave  and  plastic  voyageurs,  in  whose 
blood  the  French  quality  of  ready  adaptability  to  sur- 
roundings was  especially  well  shown  in  their  dealings  with 
*he  Indians,  with  whom  they  had  the  greatest  influence. 


n-i 


Hi 


Rivalry  of  Hudson  Hay  Company. 


On  the  other  hand,  the  greater  part  of  the  Hudson 
Bay  canoe  men  were  imported  from  the  Orkney  Islands. 
What  with  their  obstinate,  unbending  nature,  and  mental 
sluggishness,  these  men  presented  a  most  unfavorable 
contrast  to  the  genial  voyagcurs. 

The  establishment  of  the  Northwest  Company  aroused 
the  utmost  jealousy  and  animosity  of  the  Hudson  Bay 
Company.  While  the  various  parties  were  engaged  in 
dealings  with  the  Indians,  there  not  infrequently  oc- 
curred open  conflicts,  bloodshed,  and  murder  among  the 
agents,  in  their  attempts  to  outwit  and  circumvent  one 
another. 

At  length  the  partners  of  the  Northwest  Company  in 
the  interior  of  Canada,  realizing  that  all  the  profits  were 
more  than  balanced  by  their  endless  and  painful  contest, 
determined  to  open  a  negotiation  with  their  rivals,  and 
for  this  purpose  sent  two  delegates  to  London  with  full 
authority  to  close  whatever  agreement  would  be  for  the 
best  interests  of  the  company.  Just  at  this  time  the 
directors  of  the  two  companies  were  about  to  sign  a  con- 
tract most  favorable  to  the  Northwest  Company.  Un- 
fortunately, on  the  eve  of  this  event,  the  two  delegates 
from  Canada  made  their  appearance,  and  instead  of  com- 
municating at  once  with  their  own  directors,  they  showed 
their  papers  to  the  ofificers  of  the  Hudson  Bay  Company. 
The  Hudsoil  Bay  Company  took  advantage  of  the  oppor- 
tunity, and,  instead  of  receiving  terms  from  the  other,  now 
proceeded  to  dictate  them.  The  outcome  of  this  unfor- 
tunate   mancEuvre   was,   that   the    Northwest   Company 


i% 


■lil 


'     r 


1 

i    ) 

H 

<  '  ! 

It" 

4        -  ■     : 

r.     : 

i'  .  '!  ^ 

H 


226 


The  Canadian  Rockies. 


became  merged  in  that  of  the  Hudson  Bay  Company, 
tojfether  with  the  privileges  and  trade  of  all  of  the  vast 
territory  which  the  Northwest  Company  had  developed 
by  superior  enterprise.  Thus,  in  1821,  the  Northwest 
Company   ended  its  career. 

The  Hudson  Bay  Company's  territory  was  at  length, 
from  time  to  time,  encroached  upon  as  the  colonies 
of  British  Columbia,  Vancouver's  Island,  and  Mani- 
toba were  established.  Finally,  in  1869,  the  Company 
ceded  all  their  governmental  and  territorial  rights  to  the 
Dominion,  receiving  /'3oo,ooo  in  compensation.  Their 
forts  or  posts,  together  with  a  small  amount  of  land  in 
the  immediate  vicinity,  were  reserved  by  them.  The 
Hudson  Bay  Company  still  exists  as  a  commercial  organ- 
ization, carrying  on  a  thriving  business  in  many  of  the 
principal  cities  and  towns  of  Canada. 

So  much  by  way  of  introduction  to  the  exploration  of 
the  Canadian  Rockies. 

Let  us  now  turn  to  Sir  Alexander  Mackenzie,  the 
hardy  explorer  who  first  crossed  the  continent  of  North 
America,  after  penetrating  the  grim  and  inhospitable  array 
of  mountains  which  had  hitherto  presented  an  impassable 
barrier  to  all  further  westward  progress. 

Mackenzie  was  born  in  the  northern  part  of  Scotland, 
in  the  picturesque  and  historic  town  of  Inverness.  The 
year  of  his  birth  is  usually  set  down  as  i^SS-  In  h'^ 
youth  he  emigrated  to  Canada,  and  found  employment 
as  a  clerk  to  one  of  the  partners  in  the  great  Northwest 
Fur  Company.     Later  on  he  went  to  Fort  Chipewyan, 


1; 


J\  '  M 


Mackenzie's  Character 


-27 


of 


on  Lake  Athal)asca,  aiul  l)t;cani(:  one  of  tlui  principal  part- 
ners in  the  Northwest  Company. 

Mackenzie  was  endowed  by  nature  with  a  powerful 
physique  and  a  stron^r  constitution,  which  enabled  him 
to  under<,ro  the  unusual  hardships  of  his  explorations  in 
the;  wilderness.  Heside  these  physical  (lualifications.  he 
was  inspired  with  the  ambition  necessary  to  the  forma- 
tion of  (Treat  plans,  and  with  an  enterprising  spirit  which 
impelled  him  to  carry  them  throuj,di  to  a  successful  ter- 
mination. Great  versatility  of  idea  enabled  him  to 
oppose  every  novel  and  sudden  danger  with  new  plans, 
while  a  rugged  perseverance,  indomitable  patience,  and 
a  boldness  often  bordering  on  recklessness,  carried  him 
through  all  manner  of  physical  and  material  obstacles. 
In  his  dealings  with  the  Indians  and  his  own  followers, 
he  showed  an  unusual  tact;,  a  quality  which  more  than 
any  other  contributed  to  his  success.  Nothing  so  quickly 
saps  the  strength  and  tries  the  courage  of  the  explorer, 
be  he  ever  so  bold  and  persevering,  as  cowardice  and 
unwillingness  among  his  followers. 

Nevertheless,  Mackenzie  was  not  a  scientific  explorer. 
Outside  of  the  manners  and  customs  of  the  various  tribes 
with  which  he  came  in  contact,  only  the  most  patent  and 
striking  phenomena  of  the  great  nature-world  impressed 
him.  No  better  idea  of  his  views  on  this  subject  could 
be  obtained  than  from  a  passage  in  the  preface  to  his 
Voyages  : 

"  I  could  not  stop,"  says  Mackenzie,  "to  rM^    into  the 
earth,  over  whose  surface  I  was  compelled  to  pass  with 


H 


r 


f 


rl' 


■■ 


ih 


w 


III 


f'f' 


■I 


'i 


II 


I     I 

I 


228 


I'hc  Canadian  Ruckics. 


rapid  sttips  :  nor  could  I  turn  aside  to  collect  the  plants 
which  nature  initrjit  have  scattered  on  tlu;  way,  when  my 
thouj^hts  were  anxiously  employed  in  makinjj^  provision 
for  the  clay  that  was  passinj^  over  me.  1  had  to  encounter 
perils  by  lantl  and  perils  1)\'  water  ;  to  watch  the  savage 
who  was  our  guide,  or  to  guard  against  those  of  his  tribe 
who  might  meditate;  our  tiestruction.  I  had,  also,  the  pas- 
sions and  fears  of  ethers  to  control  and  subdue.  To-day, 
I  had  to  assuage  the  rising  discontents,  and  on  the  mor- 
row, to  cheer  the  fainting  spirits  of  the  people  who  ac- 
companied me.  The  toil  of  our  navigation  was  incessant, 
and  oftentimes  extreme  ;  and,  in  our  progress  overland, 
we  had  no  protection  from  the  severity  of  the  elements, 
and  possessed  no  accommoilations  or  conveniences  but 
such  as  could  be  contained  in  the  burden  on  our  shoulders, 
which  aggravated  the  toils  of  our  march,  and  added  to  the 
wearisomeness  of  our  way. 

"Though  the  events  which  compose  my  journals  may 
have  little  in  themselves  to  strike  the  imagination  of  those 
who  love  to  be  astonished,  or  to  gratify  the  curiosity  of 
such  as  are  enamoured  of  romantic  adventures  ;  neverthe- 
less, when  it  is  considered  that  I  explored  those  waters 
which  had  never  before  borne  any  other  vessel  than  the 
canoe  of  the  savage  ;  and  traversed  those  deserts  where 
an  European  had  never  before  presented  himself  to  the 
eye  of  its  swarthy  natives ;  when  to  these  considerations 
are  added  the  important  objects  which  were  pursued,  with 
the  dangers  that  were  encountered,  and  the  difficulties 
that  were  surmounted  to  attain  them,  this  work  will,   I 


ill. 


Previous  lixploratioiis. 


22f 


flatter  myself,  be  found  lo  excite  ;m  interest  and  conciliate 
rejj^ard  in  the  niimls  of  those  who  peruse  it." 

Thus  Mackenzie!  write-s  in  the  preface  to  his  journal. 
Neverthel(;ss,  then?  is  no  (evidence;  throu<.,du)Ut  liis  works 
that  h(!  was  learned  or  even  interested  in  the  sciences 
of  botany  or  .tjfeoloi^y.  The  scientilic  mind  becomes 
so  much  absorbed  in  the  s(;arch  for  information,  when 
surrounded  by  the  infinite  variety  of  nature's  pro- 
ductions, especially  in  re_i,dons  hitherto  unknown,  that 
mere  inconvenienct;,  physical  suffering,  or  imminent  peril 
is  incapable  of  withdrawing:,^  tin;  atttMition  from  the 
chosen  objects  of  pursuit.  Whoever  reads  Humboldt's 
narrative  of  travels  in  the  equinoctial  regions  of  South 
America,  especially  that  part  which  pertains  to  his  v(j)aj;e 
on  th(!  Orinoco,  will  appreciate  the  truth  of  this.  The 
sti^in>,^  humid  heat  of  a  fever-l.ulen  atmosphere,  the  ever 
present  danj^er  of  sudden  death  from  venomous  serpents, 
ferocious  alligators,  or  the  stealthy  jaguar,  the  very  ;iir 
itself  darkened  by  innumerable  swarms  of  mosquitoes  and 
stinging  insects,  with  changing  varieties  appearing  at 
every  hour  of  the  day  and  night,  were  unable  to  force  this 
great  naturalist  to  resign  his  work. 

Unfortunately,  the  explorer  and  the  naturalist  are  not 
often  combined  in  one  person,  notwithstanding  that  the  fact 
of  being  one,  implies  a  tendency  toward  becoming  the  other. 

Mackenzie  mentions  one  or  two  attempts  previous  to 
1792  to  cross  the  Rocky  Mountains.  No  record  of  these 
expeditions  is  available,  a  circumstance  that  implies  their 
termination  in  failure  or  disaster. 


'!  i 


*3 


»'' 


I 


r ) 


hi 


2;,o 


Ihc  Canadian  Rockies. 


Up  to  this  time  the  Rocky  Mountains,  with  their  awful 
array  of  saw-edged  peaks  covered  with  a  dazzHny  white 
mantle  of  perpetual  snow,  had  stood  as  the  western  limit 
of  overland  exploration,  beyond  which  no  European  had 
ever  passed.  The  Pacific  Coast  had  already  been  explored 
by  Captain  Cook  in  1778,  and  a  few  years  later  so  accu- 
rately charted  by  Vancouver,  tl  at  his  work  is  still 
standard  among-  navigators.  The  eastern  border  of  the 
Rockies  was  vayfuelv  located,  but  between  these  narrow 
strips  there  remained  a  vast  region,  four  hundred  miles 
wide,  extending  to  the  Arctic  Ocean,  ..^bout  which  little  or 
nothing  was  known. 

As  in  the  case  of  other  unexplored  regions,  there  were 
vairue  anil  contlictino;  rumors  amono^  the  Indians  concern- 
ing  the  dangers  of  these  upland  fastnesses,  accounts  of 
hostile  tribes,  men  partly  human,  partly  animal  in  form 
and  nature,  ;ind  colossal  beasts,  endowed  with  fabulous 
strength  and  agility,  from  which  escape  was  next  to  im- 
possible. These  Indian  tales,  though  in  great  part  the 
product  of  imagination  or  superstition,  ui'.fortunately  did 
but  partial  justice  to  the  reality,  for  although  the  rej,orted 
dangers  and  terrors  were  mythical,  there  were  real  and 
material  obstacles  in  the  form  of  mountain  ranges  bewil- 
dering in  their  endless  extent  and  complexity,  between 
which  were  valleys  blocked  by  fallen  timber,  and  torrential 
streams  rendered  unnavigable  by  roaring  rapids  or  gloomy 
canyons  of  awful  depth.  In  fact,  this  region  was  one  of 
the  most  difficult  to  penetrate  and  explore  that  the  world 
could  offer  at  that  time. 


I 


HI 


V 

In  i 


The  Peace  River. 


231 


Nevertheless,  Mackenzie  now  turned  his  attention 
toward  Lhis  region,  resolved  to  traverse  and  explore  it  till 
he  should  reach  the  Pacific.  Moreover,  he  was  confident 
of  success,  perhaps  realizing  his  many  qualifications  for 
such  an  enterprise,  and  certainly  encouraged  by  the 
remembrance  of  the  difficulties  he  had  overcome  during 
his  former  voyage,  in  1789,  to  the  mouth  of  that  great 
river  which  bears  his  name. 

Leaving  P'ort  Chipewyan  on  Lake  Athabasca,  he  soon 
reached  that  great  waterway,  the  Peace  River,  and  with 
several  canoes  began  to  stem  the  moderate  current  of  this 
stream,  which  is  at  this  point  about  one  fourth  of  a  mile 
in  width  and  quite  deep. 

The  origin  of  names  is  always  interesting,  and  that  of 
the  Peace  River  is  said  to  be  derived  from  a  circumstance 
of  Indian  history.  The  tribe  of  Indians  called  the  Knis- 
teneux,  who  originally  inhabited  the  Atlantic  seaboard 
and  the  St.  Lawrence  valley,  migrated  in  a  northwesterly 
direction.  In  the  course  of  this  tribal  movement,  after 
reaching  the  centre  of  the  continent,  they  at  length  came 
in  contact  with  the  Beaver  Indians,  and  a  neighboring 
tribe  called  the  Slaves,  at  a  point  some  fifty  leagues  due 
south  from  Lake  Athabasca.  The  Knisteneux  ilrove 
these  tribes  from  their  lands,  the  Slave  Indians  movinof 
northward  down  the  Slave  River  to  Great  Slave  Lake, 
from  which  circumstance  the  lake  derives  its  name.  The 
term  Slave  was  not  ap[)lied  to  indicate  servitude,  but  by 
way  of  reproach  on  their  unusual  barbarity  and  destitu- 
tion.    The  Beaver  Indians   moveci  in  another  direction. 


nl 


v\ 


I! 


ir 


t' 


ti 


;i 


2x2 


The  Canadian  Rockies. 


more  to  the  westward,  and  on  the  ratification  of  peace 
between  them  and  the  Knisteneux,  the  Peace  River  was 
assigned  as  the  boundary  between  them. 

After  proceeding  for  three  weeks  up  the  Peace  River, 
Mackenzie  camped  for  the  winter  at  a  point  previously 
decided  on,  and  early  in  the  following  spring  recom- 
menced his  "  voyage,"  as  these  inland  water  journeys 
are  called.  Mackenzie  was  accompanied  by  Alexander 
Mackay,  one  of  the  officers  of  the  Northwest  Company. 
The  crew  consisted  of  six  Canadian  voyao^ctirs,  and  the 
party  was  completed  by  two  Indians,  who,  it  was  in- 
tended, should  act  as  interpreters  and  hunters.  A  single 
canoe,  twenty-five  feet  long  and  not  quite  five  feet  in  ex- 
treme breadth,  served  to  carry  the  entire  party,  in  addi- 
tion to  three  thousand  pounds  of  baggage  and  provisions. 

It  would  be  entirely  aside  from  our  purpose  to  narrate 
in  detail  the  many  interesting  adventures  and  narrow 
escapes  of  the  party.  A  single  incident  will  serve  to 
throw  some  light  on  the  perils  and  toils  that  were  en- 
countered. At  the  time  of  the  incident  in  question,  they 
had  crossed  the  watershed  by  following  the  south  branch 
of  the  Peace  River  to  its  source,  and  were  now  descend- 
ing a  mad  torrent  which  runs  westward,  and  is  tributary 
to  the  Fraser  River,  which  latter  Mackenzie  mistook  for 
the  Columbia. 

It  was  on  the  morning  of  the  13th  of  June,  and  the 
canoe  had  proceeded  but  a  short  distance,  when  it 
struck,  and,  turning  sidewise,  broke  on  a  stone.  Mac- 
kenzie and  all  the  men  jumped  into  the  water  at  once, 


i'l 


A  Marvellous  Escape. 


2oj 


and  endeavored  to  stop  the  canoe  and  turn  it  round.  But 
almost  immediately  she  was  swept  into  deeper  water, 
where  it  became  necessary  for  everybody  to  scramble 
aboard  with  the  greatest  celerity.  In  this  uncertain  con- 
test, one  of  the  men  was  left  in  mid-stream  to  effect  a 
passage  to  shore  in  the  best  way  he  could. 

"  We  had  hardly  regained  our  situations,"  writes  Mac- 
kenzie, "  when  we  drove  against  a  rock,  which  shattered 
the  stern  of  the  canoe  in  such  a  manner  that  it  held  only 
by  the  gunwales,  so  that  the  steersman  could  no  longer 
keep  his  place.  The  violence  of  this  stroke  drove  us  to 
the  opposite  side  of  the  river,  which  is  but  narrow,  when 
the  bow  met  with  the  same  fate  as  the  stern.  At  this 
moment  the  foreman  seized  on  some  branches  of  a  small 
tree,  in  the  hope  of  bringing  up  the  canoe,  but  such  was 
their  elasticity  that,  in  a  manner  not  easily  described,  he 
was  jerked  on  shore  in  an  instant,  and  with  a  degree  of 
violence  that  threatened  his  destruction.  But  we  had  no 
time  to  turn  from  our  own  situation  to  inquire  what  had 
befallen  him  ;  for,  in  a  few  moments,  we  came  across  a 
cascade,  which  broke  several  larg  oles  in  the  bottom  of 
the  canoe,  and  started  all  the  bars,  (  vccut  one  1>ehind  the 
scooping  seat.  If  this  accident,  however,  ul  not  hap- 
pened, the  vessel  must  have  been  irretrievablv  oxerset. 
The  wreck  becoming  flat  on  the  water,  we  all  jumped  out, 
while  the  steersman,  who  had  been  compelled  to  abandon 
his  place,  and  had  not  recovered  from  his  fright,  ciuled 
out  to  his  companions  to  save  themselves.  My  peremp- 
tory commands  superseded  the  effects  of  his  fear,  and 


"'>i 


'I! 


' 

IfM 

i 

i  ■ 

^ 

I; 

.   1 

- 

1 

!     . 


^n' 


i!    ) 


!     I. 


234 


The  Canadian  Rockies. 


they  all  held  fast  to  the  wreck ;  to  which  fortunate  resolu- 
tion we  owed  our  safety,  as  we  should  otherwise  have 
been  dashed  against  the  rocks  by  the  force  of  the  water, 
or  driven  over  the  cascades.  In  this  condition  we  were 
forced  several  hundred  yards,  and  every  yard  on  the  verge 
of  destruction  ;  but,  at  length,  we  most  fortunately  arrived 
in  shallow  water  and  a  small  eddy,  where  we  were  enabled 
to  make  a  stand,  from  the  weight  of  the  canoe  resting  on 
the  stones,  rather  than  from  any  exertions  of  our  ex- 
hausted strength.  For,  though  our  efforts  were  short, 
they  were  pushed  to  the  utmost,  as  life  or  death  depended 
on  them." 

At  this  juncture,  the  Indians,  instead  of  making  any 
effort  to  assist  the  others,  sat  down  and  shed  tears,  though 
it  is  considered  a  mortal  disgrace  among  Indians  to  weep 
except  when  intoxicated. 

On  the  2 2d  of  July,  after  encountering  countless  trials 
and  the  dancrers  of  savage  foes,  no  less  than  the  obstacles 
of  nature,  Mackenzie  reached  an  arm  of  the  sea  in  latitude 
52°  20'  48  ,  where  on  a  rocky  cliff  he  inscribed  this  brief 
legend  in  vermilion  :  "  Alexander  Mackenzie  from  Canada 
by  land,  the  2 2d  of  July,  one  thousand  seven  hundred 
and  ninety-three." 

The  next  day,  when  alone,  he  was  nearly  murdered  by 
a  band  of  Indians,  but  escaped  by  his  agility  and  by  a 
fortunate  momentary  hesitation  on  the  part  of  the  savages. 

Mackenzie's  return  journey  was  o\er  the  same  route 
that  he  had  first  taken,  and  required  but  four  weeks  to 
traverse  the  mountains. 


y 


n*  i  \ 


Perils  of  the  Wilderness. 


235 


In  readiiiij  a  detailed  account  of  this  voyage,  one  is 
impressed  with  the  many  perils  encountered,  no  less  than 
the  ofttimes  remarkable  and  fortunate  escapes  from  them. 
It  is  so  with  the  journals  of  nearly  all  great  travellers. 
They  recount  an  endless  succession  of  dangers  and  adven- 
tures by  sea  and  land,  from  which,  though  often  in  the 
very  jaws  of  death  by  reason  of  the  operations  of  nature 
and  the  elements,  the  traveller  ever  eventually  escapes, 
apparently  in  defiance  of  the  laws  of  chance  and  proba- 
bility. But  we  must  bear  in  mind  the  great  host  of  trav- 
ellers who  have  never  returned,  and  whose  unfinished 
journals  are  lost  forever  to  mankind. 

The  remotest  corners  of  the  earth  have  been  mute 
witnesses  to  these  tragedies.  The  inhospitable,  rock- 
bound  shores  of  lonely  islands,  or  low-lying  sands  of  coral 
reefs,  where  the  ceaseless  ocean  billows  thunder  in  ever- 
lasting surf,  have  beheld  the  expiring  struggles  of  many  a 
bold  navigator.  The  colossal  bergs  and  crushing  ice  of 
polar  seas  ;  hurricanes  and  typhoons  in  tropic  latitudes  ; 
the  horrors  of  fire  at  sea  ;  the  broad  wastes  of  continents  ; 
trackless  desert  sands,  where,  under  a  scorching  sun, 
objects  on  the  distant  horizon  dance  in  the  waving  air, 
and  portray  mirage  pictures  of  lakes  and  streams  to  the 
thirsty  traveller ;  deep,  cool  forests  bewildering  in  the 
endless  maze  of  trees  ;  piercing  winter  storms,  with  cut- 
ting winds  and  driving  snows  ;  the  blood-thirsty  pack  of 
famishing  wolves ;  rivers,  dangerous  to  navigate,  with  im- 
petuous current  swirling  and  roaring  in  fearful  rapids, — 
all  these  have  their  records  of  death  and  disaster. 


236 


The  Canadian  Rockies. 


But  of  them  all,  man  has  ever  been  the  worst 
destroyer.  The  hostile  savage,  the  mutinous  crew,  or 
treacherous  guide  have  proved  far  more  cruel,  revenge- 
ful, and  cunningly  destructive  than  the  catastrophes  of 
nature,  whose  mute,  dead  forces  act  out  their  laws  in 
accordance  with  the  great  plan  of  the  universe,  unguided 
by  motives  of  hate,  and  envy,  and  the  wicked  devices  of 
human  passions. 


''  r:!i' 


V 


I 


lif 


'^i      V 


ihi 


I       ■ 


CHAPTER  XIV. 


HISTORICAL. 


Captain  Cook's  Explorations — T/ie  American  Fur  Company — First 
Exploration  of  the  Eraser  Jiiver — Expedition  of  Ross  Cox  — Cannibalism 
— Simplicity  of  a  Voyageur — Sir  George  Simpson's  yourncy — Discoi'ery 
vf  Goh>  in  i8^S— The  Palliser  Expedition— Dr.  Hector's  Adventures — 
Milton  and  Cheadle — Groioth  of  the  Dominion — Railroad  Surveys — 
Construction  of  the  Railroad — Historical  Periods — Future  Popularity 
vf  the  Canadian  Rockies. 

THE  early  explorations  of  Captain  Cook  had  an 
almost  immediate  effect  on  the  development  of 
the  fur  trade.  Upon  the  publication  of  that 
wonderful  book,  Cook's  Foyagcs  round  the  World,  where- 
in were  shown  the  great  value  and  quantity  of  furs 
obtainable  along  the  northwest  coast  of  America,  a  con- 
siderable number  of  ships  were  fitted  out  for  the  purpose 
of  carrying  on  this  trade.  Three  years  after,  or  in  i  792, 
there  were  twenty  American  vessels  along  the  Pacific 
Coast,  from  California  northward  to  Alaska,  collectinsr 
furs,  especially  that  of  the  sea  otter,  from  the  natives. 

Of  these  "  canoes,  large  as  islands,  and  filled  with  white 
men,"  Mackenzie  had  heard  many  times  from  the  natives 
met  with  on  his  overland  journey  across  the  Rocky  Moun- 
tains.    Mackenzie's  journal  was  not  published   till    1801. 

237 


^ 


r 


i 


'fi 


It 


I 


•  1 


I!       ) 


Ij 

1: 

:|. 

1 

I, 

1' 

i   ■ 

238 


The  Canadian  Rockies. 


Ill  this  book,  however,  he  outlines  a  plan  to  perfect  a  well 
regulated  trade  by  means  of  an  overland  route,  with  posts 
at  intervals  along  the  line,  and  a  well  established  terminus 
on  the  Pacific  Coast.  Should  this  plan  be  carried  out,  he 
predicted  that  the  Canadians  would  obtain  control  of  the 
fur  trade  of  the  entire  northern  part  of  North  America, 
and  that  the  Americans  would  be  compelled  to  relinquish 
their  irregular  trade. 

While  the  agents  of  the  American  Fur  Company,  a 
rival  organization  controlled  and  managed  by  Mr.  John 
Jacob  Astor,  were  preparing  to  extend  their  limits  north- 
wards from  their  headquarters  at  the  mouth  of  the  Colum- 
bia, the  Northwest  Company  was  pushing  southward 
through  British  Columbia,  and  had  already  established  a 
colony  called  New  Caledonia  near  the  headquarters  of 
the  Fraser  River.  Thus  Mr.  Astor's  scheme  of  gaining 
control  of  the  head  waters  of  the  Columbia  River  was 
anticipated.  The  war  of  1812  completely  frustrated  his 
plans,  when  the  post  of  Astoria  fell  temporarily  into  the 
hands  of  the  English. 

A  very  good  idea  of  the  hardships  of  life  at  one  of 
these  western  posts,  together  with  a  brief  account  of  the 
first  exploration  of  the  Fraser  River,  may  be  obtained 
from  a  letter  written  in  1809  by  Jules  Ouesnel  to  a  friend 
in  Montreal.  The  letter  is  dated  New  Caledonia,  May 
1st,  1809,  and  after  a  few  remarks  on  other  matters,  Mr. 
Ouesnel  goes  on  to  say  :  "  There  are  places  in  the  north 
where,  notwithstanding  the  disadvantages  of  the  country 
in  general,  it  is  possible  sometimes  to  enjoy  one's  self ; 
but  here  nothing  is  to  be  found  but  hardship  and  loneli- 


•',  f 


Exploration  of  the  Frascr  Ri\cr, 


239 


ness.  Far  away  from  every  one,  we  do  not  have  the 
pleasure  of  gettint,^  news  from  the  other  places.  We  live 
entirely  upon  salmon  dried  in  the  sun  by  the  Indians,  who 
also  use  the  same  food,  for  there  are  no  animals,  and  we 
would  often  be  without  shoes  did  we  not  procure  leather 
from  the  Peace  River. 

"  I  must  now  tell  you  that  I  went  exploring  this  sum- 
mer with  Messrs.  Simon  Fraser  and  John  Stuart,  whom 
you  have  met,  I  believe.  We  were  accompanied  by  twelve 
men,  and  with  three  canoes  went  down  the  river,  that 
until  now  was  thought  to  be  the  Columbia.  Soon  finding 
the  river  unnavigable,  we  left  our  canoes  and  continued 
on  foot  through  awful  mountains,  which  we  never  could 
have  passed  had  we  not  been  helped  by  the  Indians,  who 
received  us  well.  After  having  passed  all  those  bad 
places,  not  without  much  hardship,  as  you  may  imagine, 
we  found  the  river  once  more  navigable,  and  got  into 
wooden  canoes  and  continued  our  journey  more  comfort- 
ably as  far  as  the  mouth  of  this  river  in  the  Pacific  Ocean. 
Once  there,  as  we  prepared  to  go  farther,  the  Indians  of 
that  place,  who  were  numerous,  opposed  our  passage,  and 
we  were  very  fortunate  in  being  able  to  withdraw  without 
being  in  the  necessity  of  killing  or  being  killed.  We  were 
well  received  by  all  the  other  Indians  on  our  way  back, 
and  we  all  reached  our  New  Caledonia  in  good  health. 
The  mouth  of  this  river  is  in  latitude  49°,  nearly  3"  north 
of  the  real  Columbia.  This  trip  procured  no  advantage  to 
the  company,  and  will  never  be  of  any,  as  the  river  is  not 
navigable.  But  our  aim  in  making  the  trip  was  attained, 
so  that  we  cannot  blame  ourselves  in  any  manner." 


I 

1 


I 


I       ^' 


If 


;:< 


I  I 


!.l 


ll    • 


!40 


The  Canadian  Ruckics. 


This  letter  throws  some  light  on  the  history  of  this 
period,  and  shows  whence  the  names  of  certain  rivers  and 
lakes  of  British  Coliiml)ia  were  derived.  It  would  be  in 
place  here  to  say  that  when  Mackenzie  first  came  to  the 
Fraser  River,  after  crossinj^  the  watershed  from  the  Peace 
River,  he  entertained  the  idea  that  he  was  on  the  Columbia. 

A  few  years  later,  the  agents  of  the  fur  companies 
had  established  certain  routes  and  passages  across  the 
mountains,  which  they  were  accustomed  to  follow  more 
or  less  regularly  in  their  annual  or  semi-annual  journeys. 
One  of  the  largest  of  these  early  parties  to  traverse  the 
Rorkleii  was  under  the  management  of  Mr.  Ross  Cox, 
v^ho  was  returning  from  Astoria  in  the  year  1817.  There 
were,  in  all,  eighty-six  persons  in  his  party,  representing 
many  nationalities  outside  of  the  various  Indians  and 
FiOme  Sandwich  Islanders. 

A  striking  incident  in  connection  with  this  expedition 
illustrates  the  hazard  and  danger  which  at  all  times  at- 
tended these  journeys  through  the  wilderness.  The  party 
had  pursued  their  way  up  the  Columbia  River,  and  were 
now  on  the  point  of  leaving  their  canoes  and  proceeding  on 
foot  up  the  course  of  the  Canoe  River,  a  stream  that  flows 
southward  and  enters  the  Columbia  not  far  from  the 
Athabasca  Pass.  The  indescribable  toil  of  their  passage 
up  the  Columbia,  and  the  many  laborious  portages,  had 
sapped  the  strength  of  the  men  and  rendered  some  of 
them  wellnigh  helpless.  Under  these  circumstances,  it 
seemed  best  that  some  of  the  weakest  should  not  attempt 
to  pursue  their  journey  farther,  but  should  return  down 


i  ii 


^1 


A  Terrible  AcKcnturc. 


241 


the  Columbia.  There  wen;  sevcMi  in  this  party,  of  whom 
only  two  were  able  to  work,  but  it  was  hoped  that  the 
favorable  current  would  carry  them  rapidly  towards  Spo- 
kane, when;  there  was  a  post  established.  An  air  of  fore- 
bodinj^r  and  melancholy  settled  upon  some  of  those  who 
were  about  to  depart,  and  some  prophesied  that  they 
would  never  ao;ain  see  Canada,  a  prediction  that  proved 
only  too  true.  In  Ross  Cox's  Adventures  on  the  Colum- 
bia  River  the  record  of  their  disastrous  return  is  thus 
vividly  related  : 

"  On  leavinjr  the  Rocky  Mountains,  they  drove  rap- 
idly down  the  current  until  they  arrived  at  the  Upper 
Dalles,  or  narrows,  where  they  were  obliged  to  disem- 
bark. A  cod-line  was  made  fast  to  the  stern  of  the 
canoe,  while  two  men  with  poles  preceded  it  along  the 
banks  to  keep  it  from  striking  against  the  rocks.  It  had 
not  descended  more  than  half  the  distance,  when  it  was 
caught  in  a  strong  whirlpool,  and  the  line  snapped.  The 
canoe  for  a  moment  disappeared  in  the  vortex,  on  emer- 
ging from  which  it  was  carried  by  the  irresistible  force  of 
the  current  to  the  opposite  side,  and  dashed  to  pieces 
against  the  rocks.  They  had  not  had  the  prudence  to 
take  out  either  their  blankets  or  a  small  quantity  of  pro- 
visions, which  were,  of  course,  all  lost.  Here,  then,  the 
poor  fellows  found  themselves,  deprived  of  all  the  neces- 
saries of  life,  and  at  a  period  of  the  year  in  which  it  was 
impossible  to  procure  any  wild  fruit  or  roots.  To  return 
to  the  mountains  was  impossible,  and  their  only  chance 
of  preservation  was  to  proceed  downwards,  and  to  keep 


i6 


J 


mmam 


n 


in 

^  j  1. 5 

•;  11 


'i 


H 


f 


i 


II 


I ' 


i 


242 


The  CaiKulian  Rockies. 


as  near  the  banks  of  the  river  as  circumstances  would 
permit.  The  continual  risincf  of  the  water  had  com- 
pletely inuiulated  the  beach,  in  const^cjuence  of  which 
they  were  compelled  to  force  their  way  throuj^h  an  almost 
impervious  forest,  the  j^jround  of  which  was  covered  with 
a  stron^r  j^rowth  of  prickly  underwood.  Their  only  nour- 
ishment was  water,  owing  to  which,  and  their  weakness 
from  fatij^ue  and  ill-health,  their  pro^^ress  was  necessarily 
slow.  On  the  third  day  poor  Macron  died,  and  his  sur- 
viving; comrades,  though  unconscious  how  soon  they 
might  be  called  to  follow  him,  determined  to  keep  off  the 
fatal  moment  as  long  as  possible.  They  therefore  divided 
his  remains  in  equal  parts  between  them,  on  which  they 
subsisted  for  some  days,  l-'rom  the  swollen  state  of  their 
feet  their  daily  progress  did  not  exceed  two  or  three 
miles.  Holmes,  the  tailor,  shortly  followed  Magon,  and 
they  continued  for  some  time  longer  to  sustain  life  on  his 
emaciated  body.  It  would  be  a  painful  repetition  to 
detail  the  individual  death  of  each  man.  Sufifice  it  to 
say  that,  in  a  little  time,  of  the  seven  men,  two  only, 
named  La  Pierre  and  Dubois,  remained  alive.  La  Pierre 
was  subsequently  found  on  the  borders  of  the  upper  lake 
of  the  Columbia  by  two  Indians  who  were  coasting  it  in 
a  canoe.  They  took  him  on  board,  and  brought  him  to 
the  Kettle  Falls,  whence  he  was  conducted  to  Spo- 
kane House." 

"  He  stated  that  after  the  death  of  the  fifth  man  of  the 
party,  Dubois  and  he  continued  for  some  days  at  the  spot 
where  he  had   ended   his  sufferings,  and,  on  quitting  it, 


Cannibalism. 


243 


they  loaded  themselves  with  as  much  of  his  llesh  as  they 
could   carry ;  that  with    this    they  succeeded   in   njachini,' 
the  upper  lake,  round  the  shores  of  which  they  wandered 
for  some  time  in  v.iin,  in   search  of   Indians;  that    their 
horrid  food  at   len<rth   became  exhausted,  and  they  were 
aj;ain  reduced  to  the  prospect  of  starvation  ;  that  on  the 
second    nijrht    after    their   last  meai,  hv.  (La  Pierre)  ob- 
served somethin.t,r  suspicious   in   the  copduct  of   Dubois. 
which  induced  him  to  be  on   his  ^ruard  ;  and  that  shortly 
after   they  had    lain  down    for   the    ni!L,dit,  and  while  he 
feijrned  sleep,  he  observed  Dubois  cautiously  opening;  his 
clasp   knife,  with  which   he  sprang  on  him,  and   inflicted 
on  his  hand  the  blow  that  was  evidently  intended  for  his 
neck.     A  silent  and  desperate  conflict  followed,  in  which, 
after  severe  struj,r(rlin<r,  La  Pierre  succeeded  in  wrestin.Lr 
the   knife  from   his  antagonist,  and,  having  no  other  re- 
source left,  he  was  obliged  in  self-defence  to  cut  Dubois's 
throat ;  and  that  a  few  days  afterwards  he  was  discovered 
by  the    Indians  as  before  mentioned.     Thus  far  nothiiKT 
at  first  appeared  to  impugn  the  veracity  of  his  statement  ; 
but  some  other  natives  subsequently  found  the  remains  of 
two   of  the  party  near  those  of  Dubois,  mangled   in  such 
a  manner  as  to   induce  them  to  think  that   they  had  been 
murdered  ;  and  as    La  Pierre's   story  was  by  no   means 
consistent  in  many  of  its  details,  the  proprietors  judged  it 
advisable  to  transmit  him  to  Canada  for  trial.     Only  one 
Indian  attended;  but  as  the   testimony  against    him  was 
merely  circumstantial,  and  was  unsupported  by  corrobora- 
ting evidence,  he  was  acquitted." 


I  M 


F     I 


H4 


The  Canadian  Rockies. 


Meanwhile  the  greater  part  of  this  expedition  contin- 
ued their  way  through  the  mountains  by  the  Athabasca 
Pass.  Here,  when  surrounded  by  all  the  glory  and 
grandeur  of  lofty  mountains  clad  in  eternal  snow  and 
icy  glaciers,  and  amid  the  frequent  crash  and  roar  of 
descending  avalanches,  one  of  the  zumrovnrs  exclaimed, 
after  a  long  period  of  silent  wonder  and  admiration — "  1  '11 
take  my  oath,  my  dear  friends,  that  God  Almighty  never 
made  such  a  place." 

On  the  summit  of  the  Athabasca  Pass  they  were  on  the 
Atlantic  side  of  the  watershed,  and  here  let  us  take  leave 
of  them  while  they  pursue  their  toilsome  journey  across 
the  great  plains  of  Canada  to  the  eastern  side  of  the 
continent. 

All  of  these  early  expeditions  were  undertaken  in  the 
interests  of  the  fur  trade,  and  carried  out  by  the  agents 
of  the  various  fui  companies,  except  for  occasional  bands 
of  emigrants  on  their  way  to  the  Pacific  Coast,  the  accounts 
of  whose  journeys  are  only  referred  to  by  later  writers  in 
a  vatj^ue  and  uncertain  manner. 

The  expedition  in  1841  of  Sir  George  Simpson,  how- 
ever, to  which  reference  has  been  made  in  a  previous 
chapter,  is  m  many  respects  different  from  all  the  others. 
The  rapidity  of  his  movements,  the  great  number  of  his 
horses,  and  the  ease  and  even  luxury  of  his  camp  life  indi- 
cate the  tourist  and  traveller,  rather  than  the  scientist,  the 
hardy  explorer,  or  the  daring  seeker  after  wealth  in  the 
wilderness.  His  narrative  is  the  first  published  account 
of  the  travels  of  any  white  man  in  that  part  of  the  moun- 


1 

''\^ 

1 

• 

1 

' 

•III 

i 

'I 

;,  .    1 

Discovery  of  (iokl. 


245 


tains  now  traversed  by  the  Canadian  Pacific  Road,  though 
he  mentions  a  party  of  eniij;rants  which  immediately 
preceded  him  in  this  part  of  his  journ(;y.  The  rapidity 
with  which  Sir  Cieorge*  Simpson  w.is  wont  to  travel  may 
be  apijreciatetl  from  the  fact  that  he  crossetl  the  entire 
continent  of  North  America  in  its  widest  part,  over  a 
route  five  thousand  mih-s  in  length,  in  twelve  weeks  of 
actual  travelling.  The  great  central  plains  were  crossed 
with  carts,  and  the  mountainous  parts  of  the  country 
with  horses  and  j)ack-'.raiiis. 

In  1858,  gold  was  discovered  on  the  upper  waters  of 
the  rVaser  River,  and  a  great  horde  of  prospectors  and 
miners,  together  with  the  accompanying  hangers-on, 
including  all  manner  of  desperate  characters,  came  rushing 
toward  the  gold-fields,  from  various  |)arts  of  Canada  and 
the  United  States.  This  year  may  hv.  considered  as 
marking  the  birth  of  a  new  enterprise  and  the  compara- 
tive decline  of   the  fur  trade  ever  after. 

About  this  time,  or,  more  precisely,  in  1857,  Her 
Majesty's  CJovernment  set  an  (expedition  on  foot,  the 
object  of  which  was  to  examine  the  route  of  trav<;l  be- 
tween eastern  and  w(;stern  Canada,  and  to  find  out  if  this 
route  could  be  shortened,  or  in  any  other  manner  im- 
proved upon.  Moreover,  tlu^  exp(Hlition  was  to  investi- 
gate the  large  b(;lt  of  country,  hitherto  practically  unknown, 
which  lies  east  of  the  Rocky  Mountains  and  between  the 
United  States  boundary  and  the  North  Saskatchewan 
River.  The  third  object  of  this  expedition  was  to  find  a 
pass,   or  passes,   available   for  horses  across  the   Rocky 


It! 


i     1 


ft 


1 

1 

( 

i  ; 

i 

1  •■  .• 

l(. 


I 


;t 


l| 


:46 


The  Canadian  Rockies. 


Mountains  south  of  the  Athabasca  Pass,  but  still  in  British 
territory. 

As  this  was  an  excellent  opportunity  for  the  advance- 
ment of  science  without  involvino-  o-reat  additional 
expense,  four  scientists,  Lieut.  Blackiston,  Dr.  Hector, 
Mr.  Sullivan,  and  M.  Bourgeau,  were  attached  to  the 
expedition.  The  party  were  under  the  control  and 
management  of  Captain  John  Palliser. 

The  third  object  of  this  expedition  is  the  only  one 
that  concerns  the  history  of  explorations  in  the  Canadian 
Rockies.  In  their  search  for  passes,  Captain  Palliser  and 
Dr.  Hector  met  with  many  interesting  adventures,  of 
which  it  is,  of  course,  impossible  to  give  more  than  the 
merest  outline,  as  the  detailed  account  of  their  journeys 
fills  several  large  volumes.  In  August,  1858,  Captain 
Palliser  entered  the  mountains  by  following  the  Bow 
River,  or  south  branch  of  the  Saskatchewan.  He  then 
followed  a  river  which  comes  in  from  the  south,  and 
which  he  named  the  Kananaskis,  after  an  Indian,  concern- 
ing whom  there  is  a  legend  of  his  wonderful  recovery  from 
the  blow  of  an  axe,  which  merely  stunned  instead  of 
killing  him  outright. 

When  they  approached  the  summit  of  the  pass,  a  lake 
about  four  miles  long  was  discovered,  round  the  borders 
of  which  they  had  the  utmost  difficulty  in  pursuing  their 
way  on  account  of  the  burnt  timber,  in  which  the  horses 
floundered  about  desperately.  One  of  the  animals,  wiser 
than  his  generation,  plunged  into  the  lake  before  he 
could  be  caught  and  proceeded  to  swim  across.      Unfor- 


The  Palliser  Expedition. 


247 


tunately  this  animal  was  packed  with  their  only  luxuries, 
their  tea,  sugar,  and  blankets. 

On  the  very  summit  of  the  pass  is  a  small  lake  some 
half  an  acre  in  extent,  which  overflows  toward  the  Pacific, 
and  such  was  the  disposition  of  the  drainage  at  this  point 
that  while  their  tea-kettle  was  supplied  from  the  lake, 
their  elk  meat  was  boiling  in  water  from  the  sources  of 
the  Saskatchewan, 

A  few  days  later,  Captain  Palliser  made  a  lone  moun- 
tain ascent  near  one  of  the  Columbia  lakes,  but  was 
caught  by  night  in  a  fearful  thunder-storm  so  that  he 
could  not  reach  camp  till  next  day.  His  descent  through 
the  forests  was  aided  by  the  frequent  and  brilliant  flashes 
of  lightning. 

A  little  later  they  met  with  a  large  band  of  Kootanie 
Indians,  who,  though  very  destitute  and  miserable  in 
every  other  way,  were  very  rich  in  horses.  Captain  Pal- 
liser exchanged  his  jaded  nags  for  others  in  better  condi- 
tion, and  despairing  of  pursuing  his  way  farther,  as  the 
Indians  were  at  war  and  would  not  act  as  guides,  he 
started,  on  the  first  of  September,  to  return  across  the 
mountains,  and  reached  Edmonton  in  three  weeks. 

In  the  meantime  Dr.  Hector  made  a  branch  expedi- 
tion which  has  some  incidents  of  interest  in  connection 
with  it.  He  was  accompanied  at  first  by  the  indefatiga- 
ble botanist,  IM.  Bourgeau,  and  by  three  Red  River  men, 
besides  a  Stoney  Indian,  who  acted  as  guide  and  hunter 
for  the  party.  Eight  horses  sufficed  to  carry  their  instru- 
ments and  necessary  baggage,  as  it  was  not  considered 


■  Jlk 


■ 


i   I 


k '  ' 


I   ih 


,y^ 


248 


The  Canadian  Rockies. 


necessary  to  take  much   provision   in  those  parts  of  the 
mountains  which  lie  intended  to  visit. 

Some  reference;  has  already  been  made  to  Dr.  Hec- 
tor's experiences  in  the  vicinity  of  Banff,  and  we  shall 
only  (j^ive  one  or  two  of  the  more  interesting^  details  of 
his  later  travels.  He  left  the  Bow  River  at  the  Little 
Vermilion  Creek,  and  followed  this  stream  over  the  Ver- 
milion I'ass.  The  name  of  this  pass  is  derived  from  the 
\'ermilion  Plain,  a  [)lace  where  the  ferrui,n'nous  shales 
have  washed  down  and  formed  a  yellow  ochre.  This 
material  the  Indians  subject  to  fire,  and  thus  convert  it 
into  a  red  pigment,  or  vermilion. 

Perhaps  the  most  interesting  detail  of  Dr.  Hector's 
trip  is  that  which  occurred  on  the  Beaverfoot  River,  at 
its  junction  with  the  Kicking  Horse  River.  The  party 
had  reached  the  place  by  following  down  the  Vermilion 
River  till  it  joins  the  Kootanie,  thence  up  the  Kootanie 
to  its  source,  and  down  the  Beaverfoot.  Here,  at  a  place 
about  three  miles  from  where  the  little  railroad  station 
known  as  Leanchoil  now  stands.  Dr.  Hector  met  with 
an  accident  which  gave  the  name  to  the  Kicking  Horse 
River  and  Pass.  A  few  )'ards  below  the  place,  where  the 
Beaverfoot  River  joins  the  Kicking  Horse,  there  is  a  fine 
waterfall  about  forty  feet  high,  and  just  above  this,  one  of 
Hector's  horses  plunged  into  the  stream  to  escape  the 
fallen  timber.  They  had  great  difficulty  in  getting  the 
animal  out  of  the  water,  as  the  banks  were  very  steep. 
Meanwhile,  Hector's  own  horse  strayed  off,  and  in  at- 
tempting to  catch  it  the  horse  kicked  him  in   the  chest, 


The  Kickinsj'  Horse  River. 

IT 


240 


fortunately  when  so  near  that  he  did  not  receive  the  full 
force  of  the  blow.  Nevertheless,  the  kick  knocked  Hec- 
tor down  and 
rendered  him 
senseless  for 
s  o  m  »'  t  i  m  e. 
This  was  the 
more;  unfortu- 
nate, as  they 
were;  out  of 
food,  and  had 
s(;en  no  sio"n 
of  game  in  the 
vicinity.  His 
men  ever  after 
called  the  river 
the  Kicking 
Horsc',  a  name 
that  has  re- 
mained to  this 
da\'  ch:s|)ite  its 
lack  of  (-Hipho- 
ny. 

T  o  the 
transcontinen- 
tal trav(dler. 

one  of  the  most  beautiful  and  inspiring  points  along  th(:  en- 
tire railroail  is  the  descent  of  the  Kicking  I  lorse  Pass  from 
the  station  of   Hector  to   Field.      Here,  in  a  distance  of 


FALLS   OF    LEANCHOIL. 


f 


ill 


n 


!t  i 


.■  ■! 


J  ■  ( 


i 

i 

i  ; 

11 

t 

1 

250 


The  Canadian  Rockies. 


eight  miles,  the  track  descends  1000  feet,  in  many  a  curve 
and  changing  grade,  surrounded  by  the  towering  chffs  of 
Mount  Stephen  and  Cathedral  Peak,  while  the  rich  for- 
ests of  the  valley  far  below  are  most  beautiful  in  swell- 
ing slopes  of  dark  green.  Certainly,  whoever  has  ridden 
down  this  long  descent  at  breakneck  speed,  on  a  small 
hand-car,  or  railway  velocipede,  while  the  alternating 
rock  cuts,  high  embankments,  and  trestles  or  bridges  of 
dizzy  height  fly  by  in  rapid  succession,  must  feel  at  the 
same  time  a  grand  conception  of  the  glories  of  nature 
and  the  triumphs  of  man.  In  striking  contrast  to  this 
luxury  of  transportation  was  the  old-time  method  of  trav- 
elling through  these  mountains.  The  roaring  stream 
which  the  railroad  follows  and  tries  in  vain  to  descend  in 
equally  rapid  slope  is  now  one  of  the  most  attractive 
features  of  the  scenery  of  the  pass. 

When  Dr.  Hector  first  came  through  this  pass  he  had 
an  adventure  with  one  of  his  horses  on  this  stream.  They 
were  climbing  up  the  rocky  banks  of  the  torrent  when  the 
incident  occurred.  The  horses  had  much  difficulty  in  get- 
ting up,  and  in  Hector's  own  words,  "  One,  an  old  gray,  that 
was  always  more  clums  than  the  others,  lost  his  balance 
in  passing  along  a  ledge,  which  overhung  a  precipitous 
slope  about  150  feet  in  height,  and  down  he  went,  luckily 
catching  sometimes  on  the  trees  ;  at  last  he  came  to  a 
temporary  pause  by  falling  right  on  his  back,  the  pack 
acting  as  a  fender.  However,  in  his  endeavors  to  get  up, 
he  started  down  hill  again,  and  at  last  slid  on  a  dead  tree 
that  stuck  out  at  right  angles  to  the  slope,  balancing  him- 


'' 


Short  Rations. 


251 


self  with  his  legs  dangling  on  either  side  of  the  trunk  of 
the  tree  in  a  most  comical  manner.  It  was  only  by  mak- 
ing a  round  of  a  mile  that  we  succeeded  in  getting  him 
back,  all  battered  and  bruised,  to  the  rest  of  the  horses." 

That  night  they  camped  at  one  of  the  lakes  on  the 
summit  of  the  pass,  but  were  wellnigh  famished.  A 
single  grouse  boiled  with  some  ends  of  candles,  and  odd 
bits  of  grease,  served  as  a  supper  to  the  five  hungry  men. 

The  next  day  they  proceeded  down  the  east  slope  and 
came  to  a  river  that  the  Indian  recognized  as  the  Bow, 
About  mid-day  the  Stoney  Indian  had  the  good  fortune  to 
shoot  a  moose,  the  only  thing  that  saved  the  life  of  the 
old  gray  that  had  fallen  down  the  rocky  banks  of  the 
Kicking  Horse  River,  for  he  was  appointed  to  die,  and 
serve  as  food  if  no  game  were  killed  that  day. 

Here  we  shall  take  leave  of  Dr.  Hector  and  the  Pal- 
liser  expedition,  and  only  briefly  say  that  Hector  followed 
the  Bow  to  its  source  and  thence  down  the  Little  Fork  to 
the  Saskatchewan  and  so  out  of  the  mountains.  The  next 
year  Dr.  Hector  again  followed  up  the  Bow  River  and 
Pipestone  River  to  the  Saskatchewan,  and  thence  over  the 
Howse  Pass  to  the  Columbia,  where  he  found  it  impossible 
to  travel  either  west  or  northwest,  and  was  forced  to  pro- 
ceed southward  to  the  boundary. 

The  main  objects  of  the  Palliser  expedition  were  in  a 
great  measure  accomplished,  though  the  Selkirk  Range  of 
mountains  was  not  penetrated  by  them,  and  no  parses 
discovered  through  this  formidable  barrier.  The  vast 
amount  of  useful  scientific  material  collected  by  the  mem- 


I 


.   I 


'i  ;   i 


1 

1 

'  p 

;(lii  1 

'   '^ 

1 

'!^.■  ■ 


^r 


I'l 


252 


The  Canadian  Rockies. 


bers  of  this  expedition  was  published  in  London  by  the 
British  Government,  but  it  is  now,  unfortunately,  so 
rare  as  to  be  practically  inaccessible  to  the  general 
reader. 

The  account  of  an  expedition  across  the  Rockies  in 
1862,  by  Viscount  Milton  and  Dr.  Cheadle,  is  perhaps  the 
most  interesting  yet  published.  It  abounds  in  thrilling- 
details  of  unusual  adventures,  and  no  one  who  has  read 
T/ic  Nortlnvcst  Passaj^c  by  Land  will  ever  forget  the 
discovery  of  the  headless  Indian  when  they  were  on  the 
point  of  starvation  in  the  valley  of  the  North  Thompson, 
or  the  various  interesting  details  of  their  perseverance  and 
final  escape  where  others  had  perished  most  miserably. 
The  object  of  this  expedition  was  to  discover  the  most 
direct  route  through  British  territory  to  the  gold  mines  of 
the  Caribou  region,  and  to  explore  the  unknown  regions 
in  the  vicinity  of  the  north  branch  of  the  Thompson 
River. 

A  period  of  very  rapid  growth  in  the  Dominion  of 
Canada  now  follows  close  upon  the  date  of  this  expedi- 
tion. In  1867,  the  colony  of  Canada,  together  with  New 
Brunswick  and  Nova  Scotia,  united  to  form  the  new 
Dominion  of  Canada,  and,  in  1869,  the  Hudson  Bay  Com- 
pany sold  out  its  rights  to  the  central  and  northwestern 
parts  of  British  North  America. 

In  the  meantime  the  people  of  the  United  States  had 
been  vigorously  carrying  on  surveys,  and  preparing  to 
build  railroads  across  her  vast  domains,  where  lofty  moun- 
tain passes  and  barren  wastes  of  desert  land  intervened 


A 


In 


iK 


Railroad  Surveys. 


233 


between  her  rich  and  |oopulous  East  and  the  thrivinsr  and 
energetic  West,  but  in  Canada  no  Hne  as  yet  connected 
the  provinces  of  the  central  plains  with  her  eastern  pos- 
sessions, while  British  Columbia  occupied  a  positi(jn  of 
isolation  beyond  the  great  barriers  of  the  Rocky  Moun- 
tains. 

On  the  20th  of  July,  1S71,  British  Columbia  entered 
the  Dominion  of  Canada,  and  on  the  same  day  the  survey 
parties  for  a  transcontinental  railroad  started  their  work. 
One  of  the  conditions  on  which  British  Columbia  entered 
the  Dominion  was,  that  a  railroad  to  connect  her  witli  the 
east  should  be  constructed  within  ten  years. 

More  than  three  and  one  half  millions  of  dollars  were 
expended  jn  these  preliminary  surveys,  and  eleven  different 
lines  were  surveyed  across  the  mountains  before  the  one 
finally  used  was  selected.  Nor  was  this  vast  amount  of 
work  accomplished  without  toil  and  danger.  Many  lives 
were  lost  in  the  course  of  these  surveys,  by  forest  tires, 
drowning,  and  the  various  accidents  in  connection  with 
their  hazardous  work.  Ofttimes  in  the  gloomy  gorges  and 
canyons,  especially  in  the  Coast  Range,  where  the  rivers 
flow  in  deep  channels  hemmed  in  and  imprisoned  by  pre- 
cipitous walls  of  rock,  the  surveyors  were  compelled  to 
cross  awful  chasms  by  means  of  fallen  trees, or,  by  drilling 
holes  and  inserting  bolts  in  the  cliffs,  to  cling  to  the  rocks 
far  above  boiling  cauldrons  and  seething  rapids,  where  a 
fall  meant  certain  death.  Tlie  ceaseless  exertion  and  fre- 
quent exposure  on  the  part  of  the  surveyors  were  often 
unrewarded  by  the  discovery  of  favorable  routes,  or  passes 


n*B^ 


!54 


The  CaiKulian  Rockies. 


'I 


.1  I 


i 


through  the  mountains.  The  Selkirk  Ranije  proved 
especially  formidable,  and  only  after  two  years  of  priva- 
tion and  suffering  did  the  engineer  Rogers  discover,  in 
1S83,  the  deep  and  narrow  pass  which  now  bears  his  name, 
and  by  which  the  railway  seeks  a  route  across  the  crest  of 
this  range,  at  the  bottom  of  a  vallf'y  more  than  a  mile  in 
depth. 

The  romance  of  an  eagle  leading  to  the  discovery  of  a 
pass  is  connected  with  a  much  earlier  date.  Mr.  Moberly 
was  in  search  of  a  pass  through  the  Gold  Range  west  of 
the  Selkirks,  and  one  day  he  observed  an  eagle  flying  up 
a  narrow  valley  into  the  heart  of  these  unknown  moun- 
tains. He  followed  the  direction  of  the  eagle,  and,  as 
though  led  on  by  some  divine  omen,  he  discovered  the 
only  route  through  this  range,  and,  in  perpetuation  of  this 
incident,  the  name  Eagle  Pass  has  ueen  retained  ever 
since. 

But  all  these  surveys  were  merely  preliminary  to  the 
vast  undertaking  of  constructing  a  railroad.  At  first,  the 
efforts  of  the  government  were  rewarded  with  only  partial 
success,  and  at  length,  in  1880,  the  control  and  manage- 
ment of  railroad  construction  was  given  over  to  an  organi- 
zation of  private  individuals.  In  the  mountain  region 
there  were  many  apparently  insuperable  obstacles,  to 
overcome  which  there  were  repeated  calls  for  further 
financial  aid.  However,  under  the  able  and  efficient  con- 
trol of  Sir  William  Van  Home,  the  various  physical  diffi- 
culties were,  one  by  one,  overcome,  while  his  indomitable 
courage  and    remarkable  energy  inspired    confidence  in 


S'|i' 


1  : 

r 


Historical  Periods. 


255 


those  who  were  backinij^  the  unclcrtakinjr  financially. 
Moreover,  he  had  a  thorouLjh  knowledj^e  of  railroail  con- 
struction, togelher  with  unusual  perseverance  and  resolu- 
tion, combined  with  physical  powers  which  enabled  him 
to  withstaiu'  the  nervous  strain  and  worry  of  this  gi>^rantic 
enterprise. 

In  short,  after  a  total  expenditure  of  one  hundred  and 
forty  million  dollars,  the  Canadian  Pacific  Railroad,  which 
is  acknowledged  to  !)(■  one  of  the  greatest  engineering 
feats  the  world  has  ever  seen,  was  completed,  five  )ears 
before  the  stipulated  time. 

With  the  opening  of  the  railroad  came  the  tourists 
and  mountaineers,  and  the  commencement  of  a  new  period 
in  the  history  of  the  Canadian  Rockies. 

The  short  period  of  one  hundred  years  which  nearly 
covers  the  entire  history  of  the  Canadian  Rockies  may  be 
divided  into  four  divisions.  The  first  is  the  period  of  the 
fur  trade,  which  may  be  regarded  as  beginning  with  the 
explorations  of  Sir  Alexander  Mackenzie  in  1793,  and 
lasting  till  1857. 

From  1S58  to  1871  might  be  called  the  gold  period, 
for  at  this  time  gold-washing  and  the  activity  consequent 
upon  this  new  industry  were  paramount. 

The  next  interval  of  fifteen  years  might  be  called  the 
period  of  railroad  surveys  and  construction, — a  time  of 
remarkable  activity  and  progress,— and  which  rationally 
closes  in  1886,  when  the  first  trains  began  to  move  across 
the  continent  on  the  new  line. 

The  last  period  is  that  of  the  tourists,  and  though  as 


•9^ 


m 


!56 


The  Canadian  Rockies. 


li 


n 


yet  it  is  the  shortest  of  all,  it  is  dtstiiK'd  without  doubt 
to  1)1-  lonj^cr  than  any. 

I'lvt'ry  one  of  these  periods  may  1)0  said  to  have  had  a 
certain  effect  on  the  j^^rowth  and  .idvance  of  this  rej^don. 
The  first  period  resulted  in  a  jjfreater  knowledj^a:  of  the 
countr)',  and  the  openinLj  up  of  lines  of  travt;l,  to}j;ether 
with  the  establishment  of  tradinj^  i)osts  at  certain  points. 

The  secoml  period  brouj^ht  about  the  construction  of 
waijon  roads  in  the  I'raser  Canyon  leadinjjj  to  the  Caribou 
mininj4  rej^don  and  to  other  parts  of  British  Columbia. 
These  roads  were  the  oidy  routes  by  wiiich  supplies  and 
provisions  could  be  carrieil  to  the  mininj^  camps.  The 
method  of  }j;old  mining  practised  in  British  Columbia  has 
hitherto  been  mostlj'  placer  minin<;,  or  mere  washing  of 
the  gravels  found  in  gold-bearing  stream  beds. 

With  the  commencement  of  the  railroad  surveys,  a 
great  deal  of  geographical  information  was  obtained  in 
regard  to  the  several  ranges  of  the  Rocky  Mountain 
system,  and  the;  culmination  of  this  period  was  the  final 
establishment  of  a  new  route  across  the  contin  :it,  and  the 
opening  up  of  a  vast  region  to  the  access  of  travellers. 

Year  by  year  there  are  increasing  numbers  of  sportsmen 
and  lovers  of  wild  mountain  life  who  make  camping  expedi- 
tions from  various  points  on  the  railroad,  back  into  the 
mountains,  where  they  may  wander  in  unexplored  regions, 
and  search  for  game  or  rare  bits  of  scenery. 

The  future  popularity  of  these  mountains  is  in  some 
degree  indicated  by  the  fact  that  those  who  have  once 
tried  even  a  brief  period  of  camp  life  among   them  almost 


VI 


I". :  1 


Future  Popularity. 


257 


invariably  return,  year  after  year,  to  renew  their  ex[)eri- 
ences.  The  time  will  eventually  come  when  the  number 
of  tourists  will  warrant  the  support  ot  a  class  of  guides, 
who  will  conduct  mountaineers  and  sportsmen  to  points  of 
interest  in  the  wilder  parts  of  the  mountains,  while  well 
made  roads  will  increase  the  comfort  and  rapidity  of  travel 
throu_L,di  the  forests. 


ft 


.  { 


i  I 


!  I 


Pill 


il 


lii 


(;ii.\n"i:i;  xv. 

/'//(■  /Vrds/ors  (1/  the  Xalural  Scii-iues — Inltiior  of  the  l-'.arth — 
Thickness  of  the  ( 'rust — (I'i^in  an  J  ( \iiise  of  Mountains —  Their  .■lx('  ond 
S/o'c  Crrouin — System  in  Mountain  A'raiii:;enient~  The  Cordillerau  Sys- 
tem—  /'//(■  Canadian  l\oeldeS'  i  'onif^arison  loith  Otlur  Mountain  /uxii'us — 
CVimate — Cause  (<f  L'hinook  Winds — Effeet  of  ///c^'  I atitiide  on  Sun  and 
Moon — Prineipal  (iiinie  .Inima.'s — .Vature  of  the  forests-  -M ountain 
Lakes— Cam[^  /■'\fierieiiees'-/-'[feet  on  the  Charaeter. 

T11()S1'".  who  liavc  s[)rm  a  few  weeks  or  months  in  a 
niountain  rej^ion,  such  as  that  of  the  Canadian 
Rockies,  must  soon  come  to  leei  an  intiM'est  in 
those  more  strikins^'  features  of  the  wilderness  wliich 
haw  l)cen  constantly  revealed.  Tlu'  special  charact(;r  of 
the  inoiuitains.  which  have  L;i\'en  so  much  pleasure  ;  the  cli- 
mate, on  which,  in  a  s^rcat  measure,  ever)-  action  dei)ends  ; 
the  fauna,  wlv.h  adils  so  much  of  interest  to  the  environ- 
nu'iU  :  and  t  e  llora.  which  increases  the  lieauty  of  every 
scene — must  all  e.\cit(\  some  decree  ot  intert'st  in  those 
who  have  passed  a  short  period  of  time  surrouiuied  hy 
natiu'e  in  her  primeval  state. 

The}'  spend  their  time  to  little  advantaj^e  who  do  nc^t 
thus  become  interested  in  tiie  wonders  of  nature.  A  very 
slij^ht  knowled_y^e  of  the  iiaiiits  and  kinds  of  birds  and 
animals,  the  principal  characteristics  of  trees  and  plants, 

J5S 


d:  '\ 


Interior  of  tlic  li.irtli. 


'59 


ihc  natun;  of  miiicnils,  the  stniclun^  and  formation  of  tiic 
c-ailh's  crust,  antl  the  laws  which  oovcrn  tiic  circulation  of 
currents  in  the  atniospluM-c  will,  in  every  case,  offer  wide 
and  I)oundlcss  fields  of  research  and  pleasure.  The 
cam|)er,  the  huntsni.ui,  the  explorer,  antl  the  mountaineer, 
armed  with  such  information,  will  he  i)repared  to  spend 
the  many  hours  of  enforceil  idleness,  which  fre({uently 
occur  hy  reason  of  fickle  weather  or  a  smoky  atmosphere, 
in  an  interesting  and  profr/'hle  manner. 

In  the  preceding-  cha|)lers,  the  details  of  the  llora  and 
faima,  to^etlu-r  with  digressions  on  otlvr  topics,  have 
been,  from  tiuK!  to  lime,  set  forth  in  connection  with 
various  exploriiiL;-  excursions. 

It  IS  the  purpose  of  this  chapter,  however,  to  discuss,  in 
a  general  ami  very  brief  manner,  such  (piestions  as  ha\c 
a  special  interest,  and  to  present  them  in  a  somewhat 
more  systematic  maniun-  than  was  possible,  or  natural,  in 
connection  with  accounts  of  ad\<:ntures. 

To  be^in  then  with  the  foundation  of  things,  the  (pies- 
tion  tirst  arises  as  to  the  origin  an<l  cause  of  mountains. 

Astronomy  teaches  us  that  the  earth  is  a  mass  of  molten 
or  semi-viscid  m;..  i(m-,  covered  with  a  crust  which  has 
formed  from  the  coolino-  of  the  exterior.  As  to  tlu;  rela- 
tive or  absolute  tiiickness  of  this  crust,  there;  is  much  di- 
versity of  opinion,  but  the  un;at  majorit\-  of  estimates 
ranges  between  the  limits  of  one  lumdntl  and  one  thou- 
sand miles. 

The  general  features  of  the  eartli  and  the  formation  of 
mountains — subjects  which  lie  in  the  province  of  geology 


Ml.* 
1^       t  * 


II 


260 


The  Canadian  Rockies. 


-  likewise  point  to  a  comparatively  thin  crust  co\erin!^  a 
moltt*;i  interior.  vSome  »reolo(rists  contend  that  the  centre 
is  like\vis(--  solid,  and  that  there  is  a  partially  molten  la\er 
between  the  centr(^  and  crust.  Now  as  the  earth  ^railu- 
ally  cools  by  radiation,  its  volume  diminishes,  and  the  solid 
crust  not  having-  the  strenj^rth  to  hold  up  its  own  wei^'ht,  is 
forced  to  adapt  itself  to  th(i  contractino'  interior.  The 
pressure  thus  brous^ht  to  bear  on  the  thin  shell  causes 
wrinkles  or  folds,  so  that  the  earth's  surface;  is  raised  in 
some  places  ami  depressed  in  oth<;rs.  Moreover,  the  strata 
are  folded,  fracturt^d,  and  thrown  one  over  another  as 
they  are  compressed,  till  at  lenijth  lofty  mountain  ranj^es 
are  formed,  with  all  the  phenomena  of  faults,  (lexures,  and 
the  wonderful  contortions  of  the  originally  horizontal 
beds,  that  art:  to  be  observed  in  all  mountain  regions. 

In  some  respects  the  mountains  on  the  earth  are  com- 
parab'e  to  the  wrinkles  on  a  drying  apple,  but  in  size,  the 
highest  peaks  of  the  Himalayas  and  Andes  have  been 
compared  more  justly  to  the  minute  roughness  on  an  egg 
shell. 

Thus  the  mountain  ranges  of  the  world  which  appear 
so  vast  and  lofty  are  exceedingly  small  and  insignificant 
as  compared  with  the  g:  -at  mass  of  the  earth.  The 
strength  of  the  earth's  crust  seems  incapable  of  supporting 
the  weight  of  even  these  relatively  small  masses,  for  the 
highest  peaks  in  the  world  never  exceed  an  altitude  of 
five  and  one  half  miles,  a  height  which,  if  represented  on 
a  globe  of  ordinary'  size,  would  b.ardly  be  observable. 

All  the  threat  mountain  ranges  of  the  world  have  been 


Growth  of  Mountains. 


261 


:overing  a 
the  centre 
ilten  la\er 
rth  i^nuiu- 
l  the  soh'd 
wei^-ht,  is 
ior.      The 
-11   causes 
raised  in 
the  strata 
lother  as 
n   ran  (res 
ui'es,  and 
orizontal 
:ions. 
are  corn- 
size,  the 
ive  heen 


1  an  eo-e* 


1  appear 
^■nificant 
1.  The 
)portin<^ 
for  the 
itude  of 
nted  on 
ble. 
^'e  been 


raised  to  their  present  altitude  since  the  Tertiary  Ajre, 
but,  n(;vertheiess.  we  must  conceive  of  mountain  i^rowth 
as  a  very  slow  and  gradual  process,  a  few  feet  or  yards  of 
elevation  each  century.  That  mountain  cliains  have  b(;en 
upheaved  at  one  or  two  violent  convulsions  of  nature,  is 
not  in  accordance  with  reasf)n  or  geological  facts.  I^udts 
are  often  found  with  a  displacement  of  the  strata  through 
several  thousand  feet,  a  fact  tliat  has  been  used  to  prove 
a  sudden  catastrophe.  But  it  should  be  held  in  mind  that, 
after  tlie  strata  wen-  once  fractured  and  made  to  slide  one 
on  another,  the  sliding  would  tend  to  b(;  rei)eated  at  loiu^ 
intervals  in  this  same  place.  Even  then  a  yielding  of  but 
a  few  inches  would  be  attended  by  a  violent  earthquake. 

Beside  the  comparatively  low  altituch;  and  very  slow 
growth  of  mountain  chains,  there  is  a  system  in  their  ar- 
rangement which  aiKls  simplicity  to  the  study  of  this  sub- 
ject. Dana  calls  attention  to  the  fact  that  the  great 
mountain  chains  of  the  earth  are  arranged  along  the  bor- 
ders of  continents,  and  are  proportional  in  height  to  the 
size  of  the  oceans  near  them.  The  continents  of  North 
and  .South  America  reveal  this  law  in  a  striking  mann(;r. 
The  stupendous  chain  of  tht-  Andes  in  South  America,  and 
the  more  extensive  Rocky  Mountains  in  North  America, 
stand  opposite  to  the  vast  Pacific  Ocean,  and  run  nearly  par- 
allel to  its  shores,  while  the  lesser  systems  on  the  east(M-n 
borders  of  each  continent  face  the  lesser  area  of  the  Atlantic 
Ocean.  Moreover,  almost  all  mountain  chains  show  evi- 
dence of  a  pushing  force  from  the  direction  of  tin;  sea, 
and  a  resisting  force  from  the  direction   of  the  land. 


"; )  i^ 


26: 


'I'hc  Canadian  Rockies. 


.;  I 


I 


t    I 


The  erosion  of  valleys  commenced  as  soon  as  the 
strata  were  elevated  above  the  sea-le\'el,  and  tluis  the 
valleys  of  the  world,  being  mostly  those  of  erosion,  are 
older  tlian  the  mountains  themselves. 

Turning"  now  to  the;  Rocky  Mountains  or  thi;  Cor- 
ililleran  System  of  North  America,  we  observe  that  the 
chai.i  extends  from  tlie  region  of  th(;  City  of  Mexico  to 
the  Arctic  Ocean.,  anil  westward  into  the  Alaskan  Penin- 
sula and  the  Aleutian  Islands,  a  total  distance  of  about 
live  thousand  miles,  Tlie  Rock\'  Mountain  system 
attains  its  greatest  width  in  the  latitude  of  Coloraclo, 
where  it  (.^xtcntls  (..e  thousand  luiles  from  (;ast  to  west. 
Thenc(;  northward,  the  range  becomes  narrower  toward 
the  International  Ijoundary.  Im'oiu  this  point  the  s\'stem 
is  only  about  lour  hundred  miles  in  width,  and  the  eastern 
range  follows  a  line  parallel  to  the  Pacitic  Coast,  nearly 
to  the  Arctic  Circle'. 

I  l;i.\  ing  thus  \ery  brietly  glanc(,;d  at  the  cause  of  moun- 
tain chains,  the  system  in  their  arrangement,  and  the 
area  covered  b\-  the  lvoek\-  Mountains  of  North  America, 
let  us  turn  our  attention  more;  particular!)-  to  the  main 
features  (;f  the  chain  in  its  extension  through  Canada.  In 
all,  there  are  four  ranges  of  mountains  composing  the 
Canadian  Rockies.  The  most  easterl)'  is  the  highest  and 
most  import  uit,  and  is,  iiesides,  the  watershed  between 
the  .Vtlanti;  and  Pacific  drainage.  Next  to  the  west  lie 
the  Selkirk  and  Cold  ranges,  which  must  be  grouped 
together.  Near  the  Pacific  Coast  is  a  third  range  calletl 
the  Coast  Range,  white  Vancouver   Islaiul  and   the  chain 


• 


Altitude  of  the  Canadian  Rockies. 


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of  islands  cxtcndin*,'-  north  represent  a  fourth  rant^e  of 
mountains.  Between  the  two  inner  of  these  four  ranges, 
there  is  a  plateau  re«,nrn  with  an  averag-e  altitude  of  3500 
feet. 

Our  attention  centres  witli  peculiar  interest  on  the 
watershed  or  Summit  Ranij^e,  as  in  these  mountains  are 
found  tlie  grandest  scenery  and  the  most  lofty  peaks,  and 
they  are  withal  the  most  accessible  to  the  traxciler.  On 
the  eastern  side,  the  Rocky  Mountains  rise  abruptly  from 
the  plains  and  reach  altitudes  of  9000  to  i  1,000  feet.  The 
plain  is  here,  accordin.^"  to  Dr.  Dawson,  about  4350  feet  in 
altitude,  while  on  the  western  side  of  the  ranj^e  the  altitude 
of  tlie  Columbia  valley  is  only  2450  feet,  or  nearlv  2000 
feet  lower.  The  Summit  Ransje  is  from  fort)'  to  llft\-  miles 
wide  in  this  portion  of  its  course,  and  is  made  up  of  about 
five  sub-rany;cs.  'i'he  rivt:rs  and  streams  follow  tin.'  valic\s 
between  these  ramies,  and  fmd  their  wa\' out  of  the  moun- 
tains l)y  occasional,  transverse  vallej's,  cuttin>r  throui^h 
the  ranges  at  right  angles,  so  that  every  stream  has  a  zi"-- 


zag  course. 


It  would  lead  us  too  far  to  discuss  the  formations  rep- 
resented in  the  strata,  and  it  is  more  important  to  learn 
the  altitudes  of  the;  mountains  al)oye  the  valleys,  and  their 
other  physical  features,  since  these  charr.ctcn'istics  have 
a  more  dirc!Ct  bearing  on  the  scener_\-  and  on  the  general 
natun  of  the  mountains.  The  highest  peaks  of  the  Ca- 
nadian R(jckies  rise  from  500c-)  to  7000  feet  above  the 
valleys,  and  rarely  surjjass  11.000  or  i  2,000  feet  allilude 
abo\e  sea-l(;vel.     Thus  they  cannot  compare  in  magnitud.- 


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264 


The  Canadian  Rockies. 


with  the  Himalayas,  the  Andes,  or  even  the  Swiss  Alps. 
They,  however,  are  more  accessible  than  the  Himalayas, 
are  far  more  attractive  than  the  Andes,  and  afford  much 
t^reater  variety  of  scenery,  tojj^ether  with  more  beauty  of 
vegetation,  than  the  .Alps.  No  picturesque  hamlets  adorn 
these  valleys,  no  herds  of  cattle  with  tinklintj  bells  pas- 
ture on  these  hillsides,  and  no  well-made  roads  or  maps 
guide  the  tourist  to  every  point  of  interest  ;  but,  on  the 
other  hand,  the  climber  may  ascend  mountains  never 
tried  before,  the  explorer  may  roam  in  wild  valleys  hith- 
erto practically  unseen  by  white  men  ;  and  the  camper 
mav  fish  or  hunt  where  no  one  besides  the  savage  Indian 
has  ever  lowered  a  baited  hook  or  joined  in  the  stealthy 
chase. 

Before  leavio;,^  the  discussion  of  geology,  it  would  be 
well  to  call  attention  to  the  wonderful  effects  of  ancient 
glacial  action,  everywhere  in  evidence  among  these  moun- 
tains. The  countless  lakes  were,  almost  without  exception, 
formed  in  the  Quaternary  ice  invasion.  A  few  of  the 
lakes  occupy  rock  basins,  and  more  are  dammed  by  old 
terminal  moraines,  while  the  vast  majority  are  held  in  by 
ridees  of  drift  formed  underneath  the  glaciers  where  they 
joined  together  at  the  confluence  of  valleys.  Mention 
has  already  been  made  of  the  evidence  of  ic(;  action 
on  the  summit  oi  Tunnel  Mountain,  near  Banff,  show- 
ing that  the  ice  was  at  least  1000  feet  in  thickness, 
but  on  the  neighboring  mountains  there  are  further  evi- 
dences that  the  ancient  glaciers  Hooded  this  valley  to 
a  4epth   of    2700  or    2800    '"^et.       Such    evidences    may 


lii 


ef 


Climate. 


265 


be  traced  up  the  valley  of  the  Bow  to  its  source, 
when!  the  up[)er  surfaces  of  the  j^daciers  were  no  less 
than  8500  or  9000  feet  above  sea-level,  though  these  ice 
streams  were  about  the  same  thickness  as  at  Hanff, 
Ix-cause  the  valleys  are  much  higher  at  this  point. 
Throughout  the  eastern  range,  all  the  valleys  were 
flooded,  while  only  the  mountain  tops  rose  above  the 
fields  of  ice,  and  the  creeping  glaciers  moved  slowly  tlown 
the  valleys  and  discharged  in  a  great  sheet  of  ice  upon 
the  plains  to  the  east. 

The  climate  of  the  Canadian  Rockies  is  exceedingly 
cold  in  winter  and  temp(;rate  in  summer,  but  the  air  is  at 
all  times  so  dry  that  changes  of  temperature  are  not  felt 
as  in  lowland  regions.  The  rainfall  in  summer  is  light, 
and  rarely  attended  by  heavy  showers.  I'he  amount  of 
snow  and  rainfall  varies  locally  in  a  remarkable  manner,  by 
reason  of  the  mountains  themselves.  Thus  the  maximum 
winter  depth  of  the  snow  in  the  Bow  valley  may  be  two  or 
three  feet,  when  up  in  the  higher  regions,  only  five  or  six 
miles  distant,  the  de^)!^!^  vill  approach  fifteen  or  twenty 
feet.  That  mountains  have  a  great  influence  on  the 
climate  and  the  amount  of  rainfall,  is  universally  admit- 
ted. In  fact,  climate  and  mountains  are  mutually 
dependent  one  on  the  other.  A  range  of  mountains  near 
the  sea  coast,  if  the  circulation  of  the  atmosphere  carries 
the  moist  air  over  them,  will  cause  a  great  precipitation 
of  rain  aiul  snow,  and,  vice  versa,  the  amount  of  pre- 
cipitation decides  the  erosive  power  of  streams,  and  con- 
sequently, the  altitude  and   form  of  the  mountains. 


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The  Canadian  Rockies. 


Oik;  of  tile  most  interesting^  features  of  the  Canadian 
Rocl<ies  is  the  Ciiinook  wind.  Tiiest;  peculiar  winds 
occur  at  all  seas(jns  of  tlie  year  l)ut  arc  most  noticeable 
in  winter.  At  such  times,  aftt^r  a  period  of  intense  frost, 
a  wind  springs  up  from  the  w(;st,  directK'  from  the  moun- 
tains, th(;  temperature  rises,  and  tlic;  snow  disappears  as  if 
by  mai^ic.  The  air  is  so  (h'v  tliat  th(!  snow  and  moisture 
eva[)orate  at  once,  Icavin;^  tht;  ground  perfectly  fn^e  of 
moistUH',  where  a  few  hours  l)ef(jr(;  was  a  deep  covering' 
of  snow.  Identical  winds  called  Foc'hii  winds  occur  in 
Switzerland,  and  in  other  mountain  regions  of  the  world. 
The  explanation  of  these  winds  has  been  stated  by  lu.'rrel 
and  others,  but  it  is  difficult  of  demonstration  to  those 
who  do  not  understaiul  the;  laws  ^'overninL;'  condensation 
and  e\a[)oration  of  moisture;  in  our  atmosphere.  Most  of 
these  laws  ma\'  be  clearl)'  illustrated  by  an  experiment 
not  \-er\'  tlilficult  to  perform.  A  slout  i^lass  cylinder, 
closed  at  one  eiul,  is  litted  with  a  close!)-  fitting  plunger, 
N(nv  if  a  tuft  of  cotton,  moistened  with  ether,  be  placed 
in  the  cylinder,  and  the  pluntjer  be  suddenix  and  forcibly 
pushed  in,  the  cotton  will  take  fire.  The  compression  of 
llie  air  raises  the  temperature;  so  that  tlu;  cotton  ignites. 
The  (;xperiment  miL^ht  ha\e  been  re\ersed,  and  the 
plunger  pulled  suddenly  outwards  so  as  to  rarefy  the 
enclosed  air.  In  this  case  the  temperature  of  the  air 
would  have  been  much  reduced,  and,  if  then;  were  suffi- 
cient moisture,  it  would  condense  on  the  sides  of  the 
cylii'Xler  or  form  a  cloud  ol  A'apor.  These  exp(;riments 
are  exceedingK-   valuable,  as  they  demonstrate;   the;   laws 


Chinook  Winch 


>67 


of  temperature  under  changing  pressure.      Moreover,   it 
shows  how  cold   air  discharges  its  moisture  in    the  form 
of    a   mist,    and    thus    illustrates    the     formation    of  the 
clouds    in    the   upj^er    cold    regioiis    of    our   atmosphere. 
Now  the   circulation  of  the  air   in  the    Canadian  Rockies 
is,  in    geii(,.ral,  from  the    Pacific   Ocean    across   the  moun- 
tains in  an  easterl\-  direction.      It  is,  of  course,  interfered 
with   hy  the  circular  cyclonic   storms  which,  from   lime  to 
time,   pass  over  the  mountains.      lUit  when  one  or  both 
causes  of  air  motion   compel  the  wind  to  blow  from  the 
west  towards  the;  east,  the   moist   currents  are   forced   to 
ascend  and  flow  over  the  mountains.      In  this  case  the  air 
becomes  colder  as   it    rises,   mist   and  clouds  an;  formed, 
and  rain  or  snow  falls,  especially  on  the   mountains  them- 
selves.    As  the  air  descends  on  the  eastern  side  it  becomes 
warmer  in  the  increasing  ijressure,  and  the  clouds  exapcjraie 
and  disappear.      Now  this  air  is  much  drit!r  than  when  it 
left  the  other  side  of  the  mountains,  because  a  }';reat  deal 
of  rain   and  snow  have  been  precipitatc'd  from  it.      More- 
ov<'r,  the;  latent  heat  given   out  as  the  clouds  form,  raises 
the  temperature  of  the  air  above  the  normal  temperature 
of  those  altitudes.      This  air  gains  ht  at  as  it  descends,  and 
is  subjected  to  the  increasing  jiressure  of  lower  altitudes, 
and  it  fmally  aj)pears  as  a  warm  and  very  dry  wind  on  the 
east   side  of  the   mountains.      Such  a  wind  evaporates  the 
snow,  and  causes   it   to  disappear   in   a   remarkably   rai)id 
manner. 

The  cause  of  Chinook   winds   Is  thus    not  difticult  of 
explanation,  if  one  understands  the  effects  of  atmospheric 


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Tlic  Canadian  Rockies. 


pressure  and  condensation.  The  latent  h(!at  given  out  by 
the  condi'nsing  va[)ors  and  falling  rain  is  of  course  equal 
to  the  heat  furnished  hy  the  sun,  wh(Mi  it  was  evaporating 
the  surface  waters  of  the  ocean,  and  rendering  th(^  air  full 
of  invisiljle  water  vapor. 

The  aspect  of  the  sk)'  and  clouds  is  one  of  tlie  most 
beautiful  features  of  the  mountains.  I'^xcept  when  ob- 
scured by  the  smoke  of  forest  fires,  the  sk\-  is  at  all 
times  of  that  deep  hue  rarely  seen  near  the  sea-coast 
or  in  lowland  regions.  The  dark  blue  extends  without 
apparent  paleness  to  the  very  horizon,  while  the  zenith 
is  of  such  a  deep  color,  especially  when  seen  from  the  sum- 
mit of  a  lofty  mountain,  as  to  suggest  the  blackness 
of  interstellar  space.  Against  such  a  background,  the 
brilliant  cumulus  clouds  stand  out  in  striking  contrast, 
and  ever\'  internal  movement  of  the  forminir  or  dissolvinsf 
vapors,  as  they  rise,  and  descend,  or  curl  about,  is  dis- 
tinctly seen,  because  the  clouds  are  so  near. 

The  high  latitude  of  this  region  has,  of  course,  a  con- 
siderable effect  on  the  length  of  the  days.  Near  the  sum- 
mer solstice  the  twilight  is  faintly  visible  all  night,  and  the 
sun  is  below  the  horizon  only  a  little  more  than  six  hours. 
The  moon,  however,  is  rarely  visible  in  the  summer  months, 
because  when  near  the  full  it  occupies  that  part  of  the 
ecli|)tic  opposite  the  sun,  which,  in  this  latitude,  is  much 
depressed.  In  consequence,  the  full  moon  runs  her  short 
arc  so  near  tlie  horizon  that  the  high  mountains  shut  out 
all  view  of  her.  In  winter,  these  conditions  are  reversed, 
and  the  moon  shines  from  the  clear  and   frosty  sky  with 


i 


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(ianic  Animals. 


269 


unusual  In  illiancy,  for  many  hours  continuously,  wliiK;  tlu, 
lo\v-lyin_i;-  sun  Icavt's  man\'  of  th<:  tU'cpcr  mountain  \allcys 
without  the  benefit  of  his  slantinj^'  rays  fur  several  months 
toijether. 

It  would  l)e  imi)Ossiijle  to  ciuuncratt;  cncu  the  princi- 
[)al  \arieties  of  j^ame  animals,  ])ir(ls,  aiul  lish  that  inhabit 
this  region.  Tlie  mountain  .L;oat  and  sherp  ha\'e  been 
mentioned  in  previous  chapters,  and  many  of  the  inter- 
estin_L,f  animals  fre(|uent])-  met  with  have  been  described 
in  more  or  less  detail.  The  ordinary  explorer  or  camper 
will  see  very  litth;  of  the  larger  -^ame,  as  he  moves  aloiijjj- 
with  a  nois)'  train  of  pack-horses  and  shoutini.;'  men  to 
drive  them.  He  may  occasionally  see  a  bear,  or  catch 
sight  of  an  elk  or  caribou,  but  the  wary  moos(!  and  the 
other  members  of  th(;  deer  tribe  will  rarel)'  or  never  be 
seen  without  an  organized  hunt.  The  camper  will  come 
to  rely  on  the  smaller  game  to  give  variety  to  his  camp 
fare.  Chief  among  these  will  b(;  the  grouse,  of  which 
there  are  six  species  in  the  Canadian  Rockies.  One 
variety  is  tame,  or  rather  very  stupiil,  and  may  be 
knocked  down  with  stones,  or  snared  with  a  strong  elas- 
tic noose  at  the  end  of  a  pole.  These  birds  are  so  numer- 
ous in  the  forests  that  one  may  always  rely  on  getting  a 
brace  for  dinner,  after  a  little  search,  and  I  have  even  seen 
them  walking  about  on  the  main  street  of  lianff,  where, 
of  course,  they  are  protected  by  law.  Most  of  the  moun- 
tain streams  abound  in  trout,  except  where  a  high  water- 
fall below  has  intercepted  their  coming  up  the  stream. 
The  larger  lakes  likewise  afford  fine  fishing,  and  in   many 


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270 


The  ('anadian  Rockies. 


cases  swarm  with  lake  trout  of  a  remarkable  size.  The 
camper  will  often  obtain  wild  fowl,  the  black  dvick,  mal- 
lards, and  teal,  in  his  excursions.  Outside  of  these 
game  birds  and  fish,  there  is  little  left  for  him  to  rely- 
on,  unless  he  chooses  to  dine  on  marmots  and  porcu- 
pines. These  are  often  extolled  by  travellers  as  most 
excellent  eating,  but  I  have  tried  them  both,  and  would 
prefer  to  leave  my  share  to  others,  while  there  is  any- 
thing else  on  hand. 

The  vegetation  of  the  Canadian  Rockies  deserves  a 
few  remarks.  The  principal  trees  are  all  conifers.  There 
are  about  six  or  seven  species  of  these  in  the  eastern 
range,  and  several  more  in  the  Selkirks.  The  paucity  in 
the  variety  of  deciduous  trees  in  the  Rocky  Mountains, 
and  the  great  number  of  conifers  on  the  Pacific  slope  of 
North  America,  are  in  striking  contrast  to  the  wonderful 
number  of  deciduous  species  in  the  forests  east  of  the 
MississipjH  River.  In  the  latter  region,  the  number  of 
species  of  forest  trees  is  nowhere  exceeded  in  the  world, 
outside  of  tropical  regions.  Another  remarkable  fact  in 
this  connection  was  stated  by  Gray.  He  calls  attention 
to  the  fact  that  there  is  a  greater  similarity,  and  affinity 
of  species,  between  the  Atlantic  Coast  trees  and  those  of 
far  distant  Japan,  than  with  those  of  the  Pacific  slope. 

In  the  Canadian  Rockies,  trees  cease  to  grow  at  alti- 
tudes above  7500  feet,  under  the  most  favorable  cir- 
cumstances, and  the  average  tree  line  is  in  reality  about 
7000  feet.  Hushes  of  the  heath  family  and  Alpine  plants, 
however,    reach    much    higher,  while   dwarfed    flowering 


The 


Upper  Bow  Lake. 

Looking  south. 


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Pleasures  of  Cami^  Life. 


71 


herbs  may  be  found  in  blossom  as  liij^h  as  S700  or  SSoo 
feet.  I  once  found  a  small  mat  of  bri,L,dit  yellow  sechims 
on  the  summit  of  a  mountain,  9100  feet  above  sea-level, 
but  this  was  an  (txceptional  case.  .Above  this  altitude, 
various  stone-gray,  bri-,dit  yellow,  or  red  lichens,  ar<!  the 
only  sign  of  vegetable  life.  Nevertheless,  in  such  cheer- 
less regions  of  high  altitudes,  one  .sees  a  considerable 
variety  of  insect  life — butterflies,  wasps,  mosquitoes,  and 
spiders.  The  latter  insects  may  sometimes  be  seen  crawl- 
ing about  on  the  snow  after  winter  has  commenced,  and 
naturalists  have  often  described  them  as  one  of  tlie 
most  abundant  insects  on  Ixirren.  volcanic  islands  of 
the  Atlantic   Ocean,    where   there   is   scarcely   a  trace   of 


vegetation. 


The  pleasures  of  camping  in  the  Canadian  Rockies 
are  almost  infmite  in  their  variety.  They  vary  with  the 
locality  and  the  scenic  interest  of  the  surroundin<:s,  and 
suffer  a  constant  change  of  mood  and  aspect  with  the 
changing  weather.  There  is  an  exhilarating  buoyancy  in 
the  mountain  air  that  conspires  to  make  all  things  appear 
as  though  seen  through  some  cheerful  medium,  and  where 
nature  is  so  lavish  with  countless  things  of  rare  interest 
on  every  side,  one  comes  at  length  to  regard  all  other 
places  unworthy  of  comparison.  The  formation  of  these 
mountains  is  such  as  to  present  an  infinite  variation  of 
outline  and  altitude,  such  as  one  observes  in  almost  no 
other  mountain  region  of  the  world.  The  mountaineer  may 
stand  on  the  summit  ot  a  lofty  peak  and  behold  a  sea  of 
mountains  extending  fifty  or  one  hundred  miles  in  every 


jmm 


272 


The  Canadian  Rockies. 


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direction,  with  no  plains  or  distant  ocean  to  sujrgest  a  limit 
to  their  extent.  Such  a  vast  area,  nearly  half  a  thou- 
sand miles  in  width,  and  thousands  of  miles  in  length,  pre- 
sents an  e-xtent  of  mountain  ranges  such  as  are  found  in  no 
other  part  of  the  world. 

The  exquisite  charm  and  beauty  of  the  lakes,  so 
numerous  in  every  part  of  the  mountains,  is  one  of  the 
chief  delights  of  the  camper.  Some  are  small  and  soli- 
tary, perched  in  some  amphitheatre  far  up  among  the 
mountains,  surrounded  by  rocky  walls,  and  hemmed  in  by 
great  blocks  of  stone.  Here,  no  trees  withstand  the 
Alpine  climate,  and  the  water  surface  is  free  of  ice  only 
during  a  short  season.  A  few  Alpine  flowers  and  grasses 
wave  in  the  summer  breezes,  while  the  loud  whistling 
marmots,  and  the  picas  ever  sounding  their  dismal  notes, 
live  among  the  rocks,  and  find  shelter  in  their  crevices. 

Other  lakes,  at  lower  altitudes,  are  concealed  among 
the  dark  forests,  and,  with  deep  waters,  richly  colored, 
appear  like  gems  in  their  seclusion.  Here  the  wild 
duck,  the  diver,  and  the  loon  resort  in  search  of  food, 
for  the  sedgy  shores  abound  with  water  rice,  and  the 
waters  with  fish. 

Most  of  the  mountain  lakes  are  small,  and  hide  in 
secluded  valleys,  but  many  are  large  enough  to  become 
rough  and  angry  in  a  storm,  and  have  beaten  out  for  them- 
selves narrow  beaches  of  gravel  and  shores  lined  with  sand. 

Even  the  sounds  of  the  mountains  and  the  forests 
give  constant  pleasure.  There  is  every  quality  and  vol- 
ume of  sound,  from  the  loud  rumble  of  thunder,  or  the 


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Emerald  Lake  and  Mount  Field. 


T 


Camp  Hxjjcricnccs. 


2-3 


terrible  crash  of  avalanches,  re-echoed  amon},^  the  nioiiii- 
tains,  to  th»!  sharp,  interrupted  report  of  fallinj^^  rocks,  the 
roar  of  torrents,  or  the  ^i:\nU:  nnirnuir  of  sonic  purlinj^r 
stream.  The  sighin^r  of  the  wind  in  the  forests,  the 
siisurrant  pines  and  spruces,  the  drowsy  Juini  of  insects, 
tlu;  ripple  of  water  on  the  shores  of  a  lake,  and  the  myriad 
sounds  of  nature— half  heard,  half  felt-  conspire  to  make 
up  the  sum  of  the  camper's  pleasure  ;  thon_i;h  in  a  manner 
so  vague  and  indescribable  that  they  must  neetls  he  ex- 
pt.'rienced  to  be  unilerstood. 

Nor  are  all  the  experiences  of  camp  life  attended  by 
pure  enjoyment  alone.  Mountair  ulveiitures  comprise 
a  multitude  of  pleasures,  minjijled  many  times  with  disaj)- 
pointment  and  physical  suffering.  Tlu-y  comprise  all  the 
scale  of  sensations,  from  those  marked  by  the  pains  of 
extreme  exhaustion,  physical  weakness,  hunger,  ami  coKl. 
to  those  of  the  greatest  exhilaration  and  pleasure,  j-or- 
tunately.  the  sensations  of  pleasure  are  by  far  the  more 
abundant,  while  those  of  pain  almost  invariably  follow 
some  rash  act  or  error  in  judgment. 

The  effect  on    the  health  and    strength  is.  of  course. 

one  of  the  chief  advantages  of  camp  life.      But  there  is 

another  beneficial  result  brought  about  by   this  mannt^r 

of  life  that  is  more   important,  though  less  often   taken 

into  consideration.     This  is  the  effect  that  camp  life  has 

on  the  character.      In  the  first  place,  one  learns  the  value 

of  perseverance,  for  without  this  quality  nothing  can  be 

accomplished  in  such  a  region  as  the   Canadian   Rockies. 

The  explorer  will  realize  this  when  he  comes  to  a  lone- 
18  * 


ft 


(i 


274 


The  Canadian  Rockies. 


stretch  of  burnt  timber,  where  his  horses  flounder  in  a 
maze  of  prostrate  trees  ;  and  the  climber  will  feel  the 
need  of  continued  resolution  when,  after  a  long  and  ardu- 
ous climb  to  an  apparent  summit,  he  reaches  it  only  to 
find  the  slope  extending  indefinitely  upwards. 

The  quality  of  patience  under  toil  and  aggravation 
while  on  the  march — patience  with  tired  horses  and  weary 
men — patience  under  the  distress  of  wet  underbrush,  or 
uncomfortable  quarters,  or,  indeed,  when  tormented  by 
mosquitoes,  is  one  of  the  prime  requisites  of  life  in  the 
wilderness. 

While  these  qualities  are  more  or  less  common  to 
every  one,  they  are  much  developed  in  mountain  camp 
life.  But,  perhaps,  the  ability  to  judge  quickly  and  well 
is  that  characteristic  which  is  most  needed  among  the 
mountains,  and  the  one  which  is  attended  by  the  most 
suffering  if  it  is  not  brought  into  play.  If  the  explorer 
or  mountaineer  decides  on  the  time  of  day  when  he  must 
turn  back,  and  then,  under  the  temptation  of  seeing  a 
little  more,  or  of  reaching  another  summit,  delays  his 
return,  let  him  not  bewail  his  fate  if  he  is  caught  by  dark- 
ness in  the  forest  and  is  compelled  to  [jass  a  sleepless, 
hungry  night.  The  laws  of  nature  are  inexorable,  and 
while  we  obey  them  there  is  abundant  opportunity  of 
pleasure,  but  if  we  expose  ourselves  to  the  grinding  of 
her  vast  machinery,  one  must  suffer  the  consequence. 
The  storm  will  not  abate  merely  because  we  are  exposed 
to  it,  nor  will  our  strength  be  renewed  merely  because 
we  are  far  from  camp. 


Canijj  Necessaries. 


275 


Let  the  camper  surround  himself  with  all  the  luxuries 
that  are  possible  without  trespassing-  on  the  bounds  of 
reason.  Let  him  have  a  good  cook  and  a  good  packer  ; 
horses  that  are  used  to  the  trail  ;  a  fine  camp  outfit ;  com- 
fortable blankets  and  good  tents  ;  a  full  sui)ply  of  cook- 
ing utensils,  knives,  forks,  and  spoons  ;  above  all,  let  him 
take  an  abundant  supply  of  provisions,  comprising  a  large 
variety  of  dried  fruits  and  the  various  cereals,  and  let 
each  article  be  of  the  best  quality. 

Under  such  circumstances  there  is  no  risk  of  danger, 
no  opportunity  for  discomfort,  especially  if  every  action 
is  controlled  by  a  moderate  amount  of  judgment ;  but,  on 
the  other  hand,  the  rich  experiences  among  the  mountains 
will  prove  a  store  of  physical  and  mental  resources,  the 
memory  of  which  will  tempt  him  to  revisit  these  regions 
year  after  year. 


INDEX. 


Abbott,  Mount '"'"''' 

Agnes,  Lake 

"    depth  of "^^ 

.  43 

in  winter • 

,..1       f  "* 

solitude  I  if 

Air  circulation  in  Canailian  Rockies.  .    ^? 

Alders  in  Selkirks '  '^ 

I'^C 

Alpine  insects,  varieties  of 

271 

"      plants 

2T 

American  Fur  Companv •  •  •     -, 

.  '      ■'  23S 

Anemones 

,       .     .,      .  ,  Ul7 

AssMuboine,  another  name  for  Stoneys 

Assiniboine,  Mount,  altitude  of 

li  ,,         t    .  e  '7/ 

features  of ,.„ 

,,  ,  ,         ,  I/O 

first  circuit  of ^a 

"     view  of ■■    '■ 

outline , 

,,  150 

south  side  of 

Astley,  Mr "'" '"* 

Athabasca  Pass 

2J*1 

Atmosphere,  eastward  movement  of 

Avalanche  from  Mount  Lefrov.  . 

33 

lialsam  tir 

qS 

Banlf,  altitude. 

,.  II 

climate 

,        .  11,15 

locatnn 

l)0]Hilation 

"      Springs  Hotel 

surroundinL's 

'^  3 

topography  of 

Barometer,  diurnal  minima  of 

Hean,  Mr "^ 

^2 

Bear's  Paw,  chief  of  Stoneys 

Beehive,  the '       "''^ 

altitude  of ■<   ,  44 

44 

277 


2  78 


Index. 


ii  1 


::^( 


Ulnckiston,  Lieut ^  w^ 

Hliiid  valleys   

Boiirgeau,  M 24O 

Bow  Lakes , 

"       "     future  popularity  of jn 

"    Lake,  Lower  . 

"  "  Upper ::::::::::::;:;::;;;::::::;::  ,05 

"    River 

British   Columbia ^,, 

Brown,  Mounl,  altitude  of jg 

Bull-dofT  flies 2S 

Butterflies,  habits  of 

/3 

Caledonia,  New ^  a 

Calypso  borealis j   ^ 

Cand)rian  Age,  reference  to .g 

Canada,  highest  point  reached  in j,, 

Canadian  National  Park , 

"          I'acilic  Road,  cost  of „.. 

.,                                      .                               ^35 

Kiickies,  comparisons  of jfu 

Cannibalism,  anecdote  of ^  .2 

Canoe  River 240 

Caribou  mining  region ^,g 

Cascade  Mountain,  ascent  of 

,,                ^^                     ,                                   14 

descri])lion  of , 

origin  of  name (^ 

Castilleias .  .,  _ 

107 

Castle  Crags ^ 

Cave  and  basin  at  Banff 

Chalet  at  Lake  Louise 22 

"  "1^1 y.\'y.\y.y.y.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.  .6 

Character,  effect  of  camp  life  on 073 

Cheops,   Mount j  „ 

Chiniipiy,  Tom ,_ 

Chinook  winds,  cause  of „fif^ 

Chipmunks f 

Cirque ^^ 

Climate  of  Canadian  Rockies j^,. 

Cloud  effects 3^^  g^ 

Coast  Range 262 

Condensation  of  clouds ,,(,7 

Condition,  physical g 

Continental  watershed |g    ,. 

Cortrast  of  surroundings . 

Cold  weather  in  Septemlier ,i 

Colorado,  altitude  of  mountains  in o_ 

Color,  sunset  and  sunrise ^q 


Index. 


279 


I'AGH 

Columbia  River ,20 

Columbine,  yellow k, 

Cook,  Cajitain 210 

"            "      explorations  of 237 

Corililleran  System 262 

Coiireuis  di's  hois 221 

Cox,  Ross .,  „, 

"-V^ 

Crees,  Mountain 52 

Crevasses,  clangers  of 203 

Cross  River i  y , 

Daly    Mountain iqt 

Dawson,  Dr.,  on  Stoney  Indians 52 

Desolation  Valley n,^ 

Devil's  Club 12c 

"       Head ...!.."!...".  "7 

Lake f, 

"          "     Indian  legend  of g 

Diamond  hitch j  ,2 

Dominion  of  Canada 252 

Eagle  Pass 254 

Peak ,26 

"         "     later  attempts  on I2(j 

Earth,  interior  of 259 

Edith,  Mount,  Pass 219 

Epilobiuni 107 

Experiences  in  camp 273 

Exjiloration,  pleasure  of 75,  96 

Forlies,  Mount,  altitude  of , \%^ 

Forest  fires,  ancient \%% 

"         "     causes  of 1 8S 

"      tire  smoke 1 1 

Forests,  near  Lake  Louise 38 

"       of  Pacific  Coast 135 

"       regeneration  of Kp 

"       Selkirk 125 

Forest  trees,  replacement  of loo 

P'raser,  Simon 23(1 

"       River,  first  exploraticm  of 238 

Fur  trade,  origin  of 220 

Glacier,  House 121 

"       debris    55 

"       thickness  of  ice  in 78 

Cilissading,  method  of 70 

(■oat,  Rocky  Mountain 117,  163,  164 

Gold,  discovery  of 245 


2  So 


Ind 


ex. 


«1 


(lolden-rod,  Alpine  species ^o 

I  Juki  Range 262 

Great  Mountain 77,  80 

"     Slave  Lake,  origin  of  name 231 

(Ireen,  I)r jji 


Grouse. 


2(19 


Ma/el  Teak,  altitude loS 

Hector,  Dr 10,  24(1 

Hector,    Mount 2l6 

lleely's  (reek Ijy 

Hermit  Range 127 

Hooker,  Mount,  altitude  of lg^^ 

Huberand  Sul/er 124 

Hudson  Day  Company 224,  226 


Ice  Age    5, 

"    pdlars 

Indian,  ability  to  follow  traiK 

"       fiankness 

gratitude 


habits  of 

idea  concerning  wecjiii 

Koolanie 

loqiKuity 

pathos 

sarcasm 

summer 

trails 


264 
56 
49 
('3 
51 
50 

234 

247 

8 

51 

100 

2q 
212 


Kananaskis  I'ass,  legend  of o  1(3 

Kicking  Horse  I'ass,  discovery  <ji 050 

"            "      River,  origin  of  name 249 

Kootanie  Ri\ er,  direction  of  flow j  oq 


Laggan,  distance  from  Danfl (,o 

"         ilislatice  to  Lake  Louise 24 

"  '         "   Mount  Temple 7,^ 

Lake  Louise,  altitude  of 22 

"  "  depth  of jy 

"  "         early  morning  at 26 

"  "  forests  about 23 

"  "  highest  recorded  tem{;eratiire  at 22 

"  ■'  in  October 

"         "         past  history  of  forest*  al 

"  "         ]irevalent  wind  at 21 

"         "         si/e  and  shape  of |(, 


31 

^4 


U'M 


Ind 


ex. 


281 


I'Af.K 

Lake  Louise,  summer  temperature  of  water -j(, 

"         "         to])Of;ia|iliy  of  region  near ^i, 

"         "         visitnrs  at.  .  .  .    22 

Lakes  in  Canailian  RucUies     0^2 

Lake  trout,  si/c  of (,  202 

Laurel,  slieej)   ',_  k, 

Lcfroy,  Mount,  avalanche  from ...  q„ 

"              "        description  of j)^ 


precipices  of. 


3-1.  90 

Linnea  borealis jyc 

Little  P'ork  I'ass,  altitude  of 208 

Lyall's  larch jij 

Mackay,  Ale.\an<ler 2'12 

Mackenzie,  Sir  Alexander 22() 

"          River,  discovery  of 231 

Mackenzie's  plan  for  an  overlnnd  route 238 

Ma|)le  trees j-e 


Marion  Lake. 


130 

Mariposa  Cirove joc 

M  armots  


Milton  and  Clieadle 

Minerals  on  mountain  sides  . 

Minnewanka  Lake   

Mirror  Lake 

Moon,  effect  of  latitude  on.  . 
Morlev 


•■»2 


Mosipiitoes,  annual  disappearance  of ...     25, 

Mountains,  age  of 

' '         altitude  of   

"         comparative  size  of 

"         origin  and  cause  of 

"        system  in  arrangement 

Mountaineers,  trilmlations  of 

Mounted  Police,  Northwest 

Murchison,   M  ount 

Muskegs 


•  43.  'Of' 

•  •     252 

••     J73 
8 

.  45 

268 

51 
igq 
261 
263 
260 


A'i'ti'  regions 

Northwest  Company 

ilownfall  of. 
"  Mounted  Police 


2?<) 
261 

"3 

2 

207 

4" 

5f) 
224 

22<; 


Outlit  for  camp 2-':; 

Pacific  Coast  reached  hy  Mackenzie 

Pack-horses,  difficulties  with 

"         "       nature  of 2,  . 

"         "       remarkable  experience  with 105 


234 

102 


2S; 


Ind 


ex. 


!1 


I! 


Ii»ll'  1.   .  PACK 

I  all  sir  ox|if(lition 

I'aiadisc  Valliv  ^'*^ 

41  .,    '    ,.  , 91.105 

.1  ,,      .  ^  <>t 

111  winter 

II  .,      ,       ..  117 

location 

Patience,  need  of,  in  camp  life '* 

_  1  ••••. ,, ^ 27*1 

Pence  River,  orJL'in  of  name  

I'eechee ==3' 

1  erscverance,  need  of,  in  camp  life 

Peyto,  William """* 

Phlox,  alpine 

nn 

Pica,  tailless  hare ' 

Pinnacle  Mountain '°' 

Plateau  region 9  .  <J7 

Pleasure  of  camp  life   ^  ^ 

,  .  *  271 

I  tarmiuan ' 

*"  :(, 

(Jnesiiel,  [tiles 

238 

Rat,  wood 

Rhododendron 

„         .    , ,  20 

Koijer  s  Pass 

**'* * ., 2^A 

Ruiidle  Mountain 

Rundle's  early  visit  to  Haiiff  region 

Kundle  tlie  missionary 

Rupert,  Prince 

224 

Saddle,  the 

SasUatcliewan 

.Scenery  at  hiq-h  altitudes c 

,.  ,  ,  ,  45i  89,  io8 

S,/iriiii,/s,  cause  of 

Selkirk  Range,  humidity  of 

Selkirks,  early  |)opularity  of 

lorest  trees 

,.  ,.     ,         ..  132 

geographical  imsition 

Sheep,  mountain 

^.  ,,  10 

himpson  I'ass 

•'         River '■+■' 

.Sii  deorce 

.  ^  244 

Simpson  s,  Sir  George,  expedition 

Sky,  color  of,  in  mountains   '         ro 

26S 

Smoke  of  forest  fires 

Snow  line,  determination  of, 

.     „  ,        ,  ',tj 

in  Colorado  and  the  .Andes 

"     patches,  effect  on  vegetation   -  ' 

"     storm  in  Tune 

■^  12 

Solitude  of  high  altitudes  .  .  ,  . 

'^  215 

Sounds,  forest  and  mountain 

273 


Index. 


=«:> 


I'KC.R 

Spray  R  i  vcr ^ 

S|iriicf  tn-L^ 38 

Storus,  liiDse,  danger  of,  in  Canadian  Rockies 5(j,  61) 

Htoncy  Indians,  characteristics  of 51 

"  "  dress  of 52 

"  "  nature  of (j 

"  "  ralliser's  account  of 53 

"  "         religion  of ^2 

Storms,  approach  ol '-'7,  81 

"       mountain ijO 

St.  I'iran,  flowers  and  butterflies 72,  73 

"        summit  of -i 

Stuart,  John 230 

Sullivan,    Mr 246 

Sul/L-r  and  Iluher    124 

Surveys  for  railroa<l 253 

Temple,  Mount,  altitude -3 

"             "  first  ascent  of j  15 

"             "  avalanches  from yn 

"             "  first  attempt  to  ascend loo 

"             "  maximum  temperature  on  summit 116 

"             "  north  side  of no 


strata  of. 


"  "         summit  of nf, 

Thirst,  method  of  quenching y^ 

Thunderstorms  in  mountains 28 

Tourists  at  Banff 2 

Tree  line 

Trees,  age  of 

"  "     at  Lake  Louise 

Tunnel  Mountain 

Twilight,  length  of 

Twin,  William 


Valleys,  age  of 

"'      blind 

Van  Home,  Sir  William 

Vegetation  of  Canadian  Rockies.  . . . 

Vermilion   Pass 

Plain   

River 

Vitality  of  mountain  trees  and  herbs. 

V0V£ 


yageurs. 


Waputelik  Range 

Wasps  and  bull-dog  flies 

\\  iUlnian,  I'noch ^8, 

Wilson,  Tom 


270 

135 

23 

4 

4S 

21'' 

254 
270 

iSr 

24S 

"70 

12 

221 

183 
25 

IK) 

138 


